


Redemption

by ahlewis32



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Implied Torture, Rape, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 82,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahlewis32/pseuds/ahlewis32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if our favorite ex-Templar bastard prince didn’t grow up to be the well-adjusted sweet man we all know and love?  What if his upbringing brought out a different and darker side that has to be tamed?</p><p>This story contains possible trigger scenes for sexual abuse. Read with care.</p><p>Notes at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Denerim

"Where is he?" yelled Duncan. "We were supposed to meet the king over an hour ago!"  
Malcolm hesitated before answering as he formed the words, "I…I think he went out last night, commander."  
"Out! What do you mean he went out? I gave orders that everyone was to remain here in the compound for the night!" Duncan paused a moment before going on, "Did he go out alone?"  
"Yes, I believe so, commander. He was aware of your orders. He just…well…he just ignored them."  
"Like he does everything else." Duncan shook his head, "I suppose wherever he is, there’s a drink and a woman involved."  
Rohan laughed at his commander’s comment, "I think I heard him mention more than one of each. That boy’s insatiable!" He laughed harder until he saw the look on Duncan’s face. "Sorry, ser."  
"So where do I find him this time?"  
"The Pearl, ser. I told him you’d never look for him in the best whorehouse in town," answered Rohan. "Shall I go get him?"  
Duncan narrowed his eyes, "No. I’ll get him. You get the rest of these lazy louts up and out to meet the king. Tell him I will join him as soon as I pick up a recruit." He turned quickly on his heel and stomped out, leaving a room full of warriors shaking their heads.  
"That boy will never get out of it this time," declared Malcolm as he shook his head. "Nothing he says can help him now."

@@@@@

It had been a night to remember; he just wished he could.  
He’d lost count of how many whiskeys he’d had but he knew how many girls. Three at once had been a record for him. Shaking his head, he rolled over on his back only to hear a distinctly feminine voice complain loudly, "Hey!"  
"Who are you?" he asked the girl. She was naked, just as he was, her long dark hair falling in ringlets around her shoulders. Dark brown eyes flashed in disgust as she disentangled herself out from under him.  
"I’m trying to get out of here. Do you mind?" she complained as she tried to climb out of the bed.  
"Actually I do mind. Did I pay for you?"  
"Yes and we’re done. Can I go now?" she asked impatiently.  
He felt himself grow hard as he regarded her. She was beautiful and he remembered something about asking for a dark haired beauty to go with the blue eyed blond and the green eyed redhead; one of each had been the request and it had been filled quickly and well. "There’s still some time. Come here, wench." He reached for her and drew her down to him, taking her mouth as he turned her onto her back and settled between her thighs.  
"I do have other customers, you know," she protested as he nibbled on her breast, gasping as he entered her. "But…they can wait a little longer." He laughed and gave her what they both wanted.  
Suddenly there was a pounding on the door with enough force behind it to sufficiently wake and scare everyone in the room. "Uhhh….you aren’t…married or anything, are you?" He asked her worriedly.  
"Of course not," she replied. "Maybe they want someone else. Come back here." He turned back to her and continued his stroking, both of them moaning as he did.  
The pounding repeated louder right before the door burst its hinges and a large dark haired warrior strode into the room. He stopped long enough to survey the situation, stepped over the bodies lying on the floor and headed for the bed. Taking a hold of the blankets and sheets, he pulled hard, throwing the couple out of the bed and onto the floor. "Get up!" he ordered.  
"Shit!" the man exclaimed as he crawled to his feet. The girl was dazed and he bent down to help her up. "Sorry love. I’ll make it up to you next time. Duty calls." He pulled her up for a kiss then sent her away with a smack on the bottom. Turning to the warrior he said, "Duncan! So pleased you could join me. Shall I order you a girl or would you like one of mine?"  
"You were ordered not to leave the compound last night and you disobeyed. And here do I find you? Cock deep in a whore! What’s the excuse this time?" raged Duncan.  
"I was lonely, cooped up with all those men. I mean, if I went for men, I’d be happy, but I like girls so I came here. I should have known Rohan was setting me up when he sent me here."  
Duncan reached down and pulled up a pair of breeks and a boot, "Get dressed! The rest of you, get out!" A half dozen men and girls in various states of undress scrambled for the door. Two girls, a blond and a redhead, stopped and gave their host a kiss.  
"Awww…come on Duncan," he complained as he put his arms around the girls. "They’re willing! And good!" Duncan’s look was enough to send the girls running, leaving just the two of them in the room.  
The commander began to rummage through the piles on the floor, tossing garments and bits of armor onto the bed. He turned back to his charge, "I said, get dressed. We were supposed to meet the king hours ago for the march to Ostagar. Thanks to you, I have missed that appointment. Now move!"  
The young warrior began to dress, stopping from time to time to look for a missing garment. Duncan helped him with the breastplate buckles then handed him his sword and shield. "It’s not like my brother gives a shit if I’m there or not."  
"Maybe not. But I do, so come on." The young man shook his head and walked to the door. "Alistair?" Duncan called. "Don’t forget to pay your bill." Alistair smiled and caught the purse that was thrown to him. "Tip them well. This one’s coming out of your pay." The smile fell as Alistair turned around, leaving a laughing Duncan in his wake.

@@@@@

Alistair was, in fact, lost.  
Born the bastard son to an indiscreet king and a lowly kitchen maid, he had been raised and schooled by the Arl of Redcliffe as a favor to his brother in law, who also happened to be the king. At ten, he had been sent by the Arlessa to the abbey school in Denerim to "get rid of him once and for all." Talented and bright, he had excelled in his studies and training, even though he was in constant trouble for fighting and gambling.  
At age seventeen, his father had died and his half-brother had taken the crown, only to demand that Alistair be "taken care of." The Grand Cleric had acceded to the monarch’s wishes and Alistair was sent to the Templars, where he would be required to take holy vows and would never be able to rule.  
It had been downhill from then on for the bastard prince. He still excelled in his training, especially the Templar talents, but his extracurricular activities became more risqué. He was often seen at the local taverns, drinking and gaming, ending up in a different girl’s bed every night. Alistair became depressed, with little hope of ever digging himself out of the hole he was in and beyond caring if he ever did.  
Nearly six months before, at the great tournament banquet, Duncan had defied the Grand Cleric and named him as his choice for Grey Warden recruit. Alistair had blinked twice, believing the request to be a remnant of the night before’s debauch. When Duncan had repeated his request, two burly Templar guards had seized Alistair and drug him out of the banquet hall and into the Grand Cleric’s office. "You want him?" she asked, pointing at Alistair in disbelief.  
"Yes, your grace," was Duncan’s reply.  
"But he’s….you can’t have him," she declared emphatically.  
Duncan shook his head, "You know the law, your grace. I choose him."  
The Grand Cleric looked at Alistair. "Ser Alistair, is it your wish that you become a Grey Warden?"  
Alistair looked at the man standing in front of him, a fierce warrior who’d seen many days and many battles. Looking into the man’s eyes, he saw kindness and compassion there as well as steel. He liked him. Here was an out and he would grab it. He turned back to the Grand Cleric, raised his eyes to meet hers and said, "Yes, your grace. I do."  
The Grand Cleric looked at him thoughtfully as she pondered what she had heard. He was her best prospect and her worst Templar. Losing him would be both a blessing and a curse; she took the blessing, "Very well. Go. You have one hour until I call the guard and have you both arrested. Get out." Duncan took Alistair’s arm and bowed to the Grand Cleric before escorting him out of the room.  
"Get your things and meet me at the front gate. If you aren’t there within the hour, I won’t wait on you. This is your only chance," Duncan had warned. The older warrior had turned and walked out of the building and into the courtyard. It had taken Alistair only ten minutes to gather his belongings and join him.  
After his Joining, Alistair had tried hard to fit into the Warden ranks. He spent hours sparring with whoever was willing, mastered the bow and the lance and even volunteered to train a few of the other Wardens in the Templar talents. For the first month, he was happy, clean and sober. Then he’d had the pleasure of meeting his brother.  
King Cailan was enamored of the Grey Wardens, spending much time in their company whenever he could, swapping stories and often training with them. It was on one of these visits that everything began to go wrong for Alistair.  
"And this is the new recruit?" asked the king as he walked through the training grounds with Duncan. Alistair was sparring with Rohan when they approached him. Rohan danced back and forth, baiting the young warrior, but was unable to evade Alistair’s blows and soon found himself flat on his back. Both men laughed as Alistair helped Rohan up. Duncan caught Alistair’s eye and bade him join him.  
"Yes, your majesty. May I introduce Alistair, the new Grey Warden," Duncan had said proudly.  
"Not up to your usual standards, is he? Getting desperate, Duncan?" commented the king, his voice haughty.  
Something inside young Alistair snapped and he turned to his king and brother and said sarcastically, "I am pleased to meet you nevertheless, your majesty. Would you like to take a turn?"  
Cailan sized up the competition and frowned, "Of course. Let’s test our mettle, shall we?" The two men drew their swords and took their places in the training ring. They circled each other warily, searching for the right opening, Cailan struck first, glancing a blow off Alistair’s shield. Alistair continued to counter the king’s blows one after the other, never letting his brother come close. When the king began to appear winded, Alistair seized the moment, parried a blow from Cailan’s sword and shoved his shield into his brother’s middle, knocking the wind out of him.  
When Cailan opened his eyes, he was lying on the ground with Alistair’s sword pressed to his neck. "I yield," he said, his hands up. The sword was removed and Duncan helped his king up, dusting him off. Cailan looked up at his half-brother and smirked, "So, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?"  
Alistair sheathed his sword and answered, anger tingeing his voice. "I wouldn’t know."  
"Oh, I think you know a lot about it," the king answered, his smirk growing larger at Alistair’s expense. Turning to Duncan, he engaged the commander in a heated discussion then bid his farewells and left the compound.  
Alistair did know more about his father and brother than he led on. Cailan was a warrior like he but also a womanizer, just as their father had been; something that Alistair was all too familiar with. That night was the first time that Duncan had to pull Alistair out of some mischief at a tavern or whorehouse and it was far from the last. Alistair had simply stopped caring.

Ostagar

"Do you think he’ll be able to stand any more of this?" asked Grigor.  
"I don’t know. I was sure he’d have broken by now," answered a laughing Rohan. "Alistair’s made of firmer stuff than I thought."  
The man in question stood at attention for what was his fourth hour in a row. Each day he was required by Duncan to stand at attention in the center of the encampment for six hours straight as punishment for disobeying orders in Denerim. It had gone on every day since the Wardens had arrived at Ostagar and he still hadn’t broken. And, if the fact that he was standing in the middle of his friends and fellow Wardens wasn’t bad enough, someone had advertised his fate to the king, who had begun to make a habit of strolling through the camp several times a day to gawk and laugh at his younger half-brother’s fate. Alistair’s only saving grace was that none of them knew that the king was his brother.  
On top of everything else, Alistair had been left out of the battles that had been fought so far against the darkspawn. While his fellow Wardens had been off with the king, pursuing glory and fame, he had been standing guard at the royal pavilion, resplendent in his silver griffin armor but way too noticeable. It had taken all his control not to punch the dozen or so people who had asked him why he wasn’t fighting.  
When Duncan had returned the day before from a recruiting trip to Highever, he had been pleased to see that Alistair had obeyed his order to stand at attention for so long despite the humiliation he suffered. Duncan had promptly asked the men to redouble their efforts to shame him into breaking and they did so with a vengeance, teasing and cajoling him endlessly.  
And so it was that Alistair, the new Grey Warden, took his fate into his own hands and gave in, sighing heavily and leaving his post in the center of the campsite. He marched over to where Duncan sat with several men at arms, "A word, please, ser," he asked. Duncan bid the men good day and walked with his young apprentice to a secluded spot by the fortress wall.  
Alistair stopped, took a deep breath and turned to his commander, "All right, you win. I give. Can I stop now?"  
"Have you learned how to obey orders and why they should be obeyed?" asked Duncan cautiously.  
"I have to obey my commanders so that I may stay alive. Failure to do so results in consequences, not just for me but for all I serve with."  
"Good answer. Yours or did you read it in a book somewhere?" He knew the man too well.  
"Mine. What do you think I’ve been doing there all this time?"  
Duncan perused him, "Very well, Alistair; one more chance. There are three new recruits in camp who are ready to be joined. You will take them to the Wilds and gather the darkspawn blood we need for the Joining ceremony. Try them out in combat and see what they are made of. I’ll expect a detailed report of their abilities and actions when you return."  
"Babysitting recruits…I can do that I suppose. Anything else?"  
"There was a Grey Warden outpost nearby that was abandoned in years past. In my research into the area I have discovered that there was a cache of documents left behind for safe keeping. The chest will be enchanted but as a Warden, you should be able to open it. Bring the documents to me."  
Alistair could see the look in Duncan’s eyes and knew it for what it was, "This is it, isn’t it?"  
"Yes. This is it. Fail this and you are through; I have no more time to waste on a selfish man who cannot help himself."  
"I see." It was the first time anyone had laid it on the line for him. "I will not fail this time."  
"See that you don’t," was Duncan’s answer. "Meet me at the fire after lunch and I’ll introduce you to the recruits."  
Alistair nodded and watched his commander walk away. This was it and failure wasn’t acceptable. There was too much at stake now. He headed for the mess line and lunch.

Highever Castle

It wasn’t exactly how she’d ever thought it would go.  
A proposal was supposed to be romantic and sentimental, ending in flowers, kisses or gifts exchanged. Instead, Brianna found herself flat on her back on the ground, having been knocked there while sparring with Rory. "Bree? You know, I was wondering if you might consider marrying me?" he had asked as she wallowed in the dirt.  
Brianna shook her head, knocking the cobwebs out. She looked up at her attacker, squinting in the sun, "You…want me to what?" she asked, surprised.  
"Marry me," he said. "I talked to your father and while I’m not rich or big landowner, I am going to be a bann one day and hold my own property and title. He said it was up to you." He reached down and pulled her up to her feet. "Please, love."  
"I…I really…" she stammered, completely stunned. “So what was all that about?" she asked, pointing to the ground with one hand while rubbing her behind with the other.  
"Oh. Well…I wanted to be sure I had your attention. Did it work?"  
Brianna was beside herself in about four directions. "It worked. I’m listening. You talked to Father?"  
"Yes. He wasn’t very excited at first but he knows how close we are and said that it was your decision." He put his hand on her cheek and turned her face up to his. "Maker! Say yes, love! I want you so!" he whispered intently.  
In the past, when Brianna had pictured herself married she was always matched with a dandy arl or prince, married and living in separate rooms, getting together just long enough to have the requisite heir and the spare. It had always been such a nightmare to her that she had dashed the hopes of three suitors already. Yet here was Rory, whom she’d known nearly all her life, asking for her. Someone who would let her live as she wished and wouldn’t just be tolerant of her but would embrace all that she was and more. "Yes," she said quietly.  
"Yes? You said yes?" he said, unbelieving. "You said yes," Rory repeated the words. Suddenly he was yelling, "She said yes!" as he jumped up and down, his armor clanking with every jump.  
Brianna laughed until tears ran down her cheeks as she watched him dance around her. "As long as I can keep my bow and swords and practice them anytime I want," she said, with a touch of defiance.  
Rory stopped dancing around and put his hands on her cheeks, "I’ll practice with you." His lips came down on hers and she opened to him as she had so often before. Somehow it was different this time, the kiss held all the promise of the future, both near and far. Her arms came around his neck and he pulled her close.  
Drawing back a little, he rested his forehead on hers, "I love you, Brianna. Maker I do!"  
"And I love you, Rory. Shall we tell Mother and Father?"  
He looked up at the castle behind him, two figures stood arm in arm on the balcony above. "I think they already know."  
Brianna laughed as she waved to her parents, then brought Rory down for another kiss as she listened to them laugh. He smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a ruby ring set in silverite. Placing it on her hand, he took her mouth and kissed her in a promise of the future. No, it wasn’t how she thought it would go; it was so much better.

@@@@@

"Are you sure, my darling?" Eleanor asked her daughter. "I know it’s Rory but I want you to be sure."  
"I’m sure, Mother. I do love him and I know he loves me." She looked at both her parents with a worried expression, "You did say I could choose whomever I wanted? You don’t disapprove, do you?"  
"Your mother and I just wanted to be sure you would be happy with your choice. Rory is a fine man and I can think of no one else better matched for you. He can manage my eastern holdings to take some of the strain off Fergus here in Highever," replied Bryce.  
Fergus put his arm around Oriana as Oren tried to climb his leg. "Come on, pup, you know they are just worried about you. They asked me that question a hundred times before I wed."  
"And yet you married me anyway," declared his wife as she looked up at him and smiled.  
Fergus bent down and captured her lips in a quick kiss. "Despite all your faults, my love," he teased as she smacked his chest with her hand.  
"I have no qualms about my choice, dear brother. I am very happy," Brianna told him. "I think you are too."  
"Indeed I am. I’d hate to lose such a good sparring partner as Rory," jested her brother. Looking down at his wife and son, he said, "Kiss me my loves, I must go." He kissed Oriana again and pulled Oren up for a hug, then bent to kiss his mother and sister before embracing his father. "Off I go." Oriana handed him his sword, kissing the blade before she did. Fergus smiled at her and kissed her again before leaving them.  
"Pup," Bryce said to Brianna as she turned to leave, "Since I’m leaving you in charge while I’m gone, you should be sure to meet the Grey Warden Duncan. He’s here on a recruiting trip and I want you to make sure he has everything he needs."  
"Of course Father. I’ll see to it personally," Brianna replied, smiling. "I’ve never met a Grey Warden."  
"Recruiting? Here?" asked Eleanor.  
"Yes, it seems he needs all the help he can get at Ostagar fighting darkspawn," answered Bryce. "He’s already taken Ser Jory and he says he has his eye on a couple more if he can persuade them. I told him to take whoever was willing. The Grey Wardens are too valuable not to be ignored."  
"Then I shall make doubly sure he is well cared for, Father. So if you will excuse me, I have a million things to see to." Brianna kissed her parents and whistled for Rufus to follow her as she left the room for her duties.

@@@@@

Rufus woke her in the middle of the night, barking incessantly. "What is it boy? An intruder?" The dog growled low and took a fighting stance that was uncharacteristic of him. Brianna slipped from the covers and tiptoed to the door. Rufus stepped quickly between her and the door, refusing to let her go near it. She quickly remembered the last time he had done that; she had been hunting and had not heard the stag as it charged. Her Mabari hound had placed himself between her and the attacker, protecting her with his own body and saving her from certain injury.  
Brianna stepped back slowly and headed to the chest in the corner. Opening it quietly, she took out her bow and daggers, and dressed. There was no time to put on her armor, so she settled for a tunic, breeks and boots. She strapped on her sword belt, stashed the daggers in their sheaths and pulled on the quiver harness. Pulling an arrow, she knocked it well, then stepped up and behind Rufus and unlatched the door.  
The door swiftly swung open and two men entered, brandishing swords. Rufus knocked one down and went for his throat as he screamed in pain and fear while Brianna shot the other in the neck. He fell to the ground, cursing as she quickly pulled the arrow out and blood began to gush from the wound and pool under him. Rufus led the way as she entered the outside hallway. Finding it empty, she retreated back into her room and quickly pulled on her armor.  
Stopping to inspect the bodies of her attackers, she saw the sign of the brown bear, Howe’s men. "Why would Howe’s men want to kill me?" she said out loud. Rufus looked up at her and whined worriedly. "Okay boy. Let’s find Mother first." The dog wagged his tail and led the way down the hallway where they found two more men trying to break into her parents’ room. "Get them," she commanded as she loosed an arrow on the first one. He dropped like a stone, followed by the second, who was finished by the hound.  
When the commotion had died down, the door slowly opened to reveal the Teyrna, dressed in her battle armor and carrying a sword and shield. "Darling! I thought you had…"  
"I’m okay Mother. What’s all this about? Those men are wearing Howe’s coat of arms." Brianna asked, confused.  
"We must find your father. He was with the Grey Warden in the hall when I went to bed." Eleanor started down the hallway, Brianna and Rufus following. They stopped at an open door and Rufus entered first, growling low, then letting out a howl of pain. Brianna and Eleanor entered behind him, ready to charge. They weren’t prepared for what they found.  
Oriana lay on the floor in a crumpled mess, her skirts torn and pushed up to her waist. Blood pooled from the deep cut to her throat and had soaked her golden brown hair. Oren lay next to her, his throat cut, his favorite stuffed horse still clutched to his chest.  
Brianna sank to her knees next to them and began to tremble as she reached out to smooth the hair back from her sister in law’s face. Eleanor had picked up Oren and was hugging him tightly to her breast, rocking back and forth and crying. "Maker, no! Please let it not be true!" she repeated over and over. Brianna’s hand found her mother’s and squeezed.  
"Mother? We can’t stay. We must find Father," she begged.  
"I know," answered Eleanor as she lowered her grandson to the floor gently. She picked up the little stuffed horse and stuffed it in her belt. "The ring. For Fergus," she said, pointing to Oriana’s left hand. Brianna pulled Oriana’s wedding ring off her finger and threaded it through her amulet chain, then rose and helped her mother up. Together they pulled the coverlet off the bed and covered the bodies. Eleanor said a silent prayer and looked at Brianna, "Let’s go." They headed down the stairs to the main hall.

@@@@@

"Man the doors! They must not get through!" yelled Rory as he pushed against the huge double doors in the entry hall.  
"Rory!" yelled Brianna as she rushed to her love’s side. He clasped her tightly to his chest as she began to cry. "I…thought…" she trailed off, burying her head in his neck.  
Rory looked over at the Teyrna and put out his hand for hers. "Your ladyship, we thought the worst for you. So many have died already." He looked down at Brianna, "I was so afraid…"  
"Oriana and Oren are dead. Killed by Howe’s men. Where is my husband, Rory?" asked Eleanor as she clung to his hand.  
"He was wounded in the first attack. The Grey Warden was with him while they looked for you." He looked down at Brianna, "They went to the larder. The passage there was still open last I heard." Rory let go of Eleanor’s hand and took Brianna’s face in his hands. "Bree, love. You must listen to me and do what I say. Go to the larder and find your father. Get out of the castle with him. The Grey Warden will see to your safety. Please love, it’s the only way!"  
"But what about you? I won’t leave without you Rory!" Brianna told him.  
"You must, love. Someone has to stay and cover your escape. Please love! Go!" When Brianna shook her head, "Your ladyship, take her, please!" he pleaded. Eleanor put out her hand and took Rory’s, nodding in agreement.  
"We must go, darling. Rory is right, it is the only way." She released Rory’s hand, took her daughter’s arm and started to pull her away from her love.  
Rory took her in his arms and kissed her hard, "I love you, Brianna. Never forget that. Now go!" He pushed her away from him and turned to the doors.  
"I love you Rory," Brianna replied as her mother pulled her away. "Maker keep you," she said through the tears. With a last look, she turned and ran out of the hall and to the larder, Eleanor and Rufus on her heels.  
"Maker keep you safe, my love," Rory replied sadly as he pushed against the door with all his strength to buy her time.  
Brianna and Eleanor ran straight for the kitchen and pulled open the larder door to find the Teyrn lying in a pool of blood, nearly dead. "Bryce!" exclaimed Eleanor as she ran to his side.  
"Father! What happened?" cried Brianna, kneeling down next to him.  
"They nearly…got me," he panted. "Listen love," he said as he looked up at his wife. "Duncan…he will get you out. Go…with him…please!"  
"But what of you?" asked Eleanor.  
"I’ll…never make it. The standing…will kill me."  
"He is right, your ladyship. His wounds are too great. He is finished. I am very sorry," said a tall middle aged warrior as he strode into the room.  
Bryce looked up at his friend, "Duncan…please…see them to safety. You…promised."  
"I did, your lordship, at a price. Are you willing to pay?"  
"Yes…you have it."  
"What price, Duncan? What do you mean?" asked Eleanor.  
"I will take you and your daughter to Fergus at Ostagar but in return, your daughter must agree to become a Grey Warden."  
Brianna looked at her father and the warrior before her, "You want me to….Yes! If it will save my mother, then yes, I will!"  
"Then go with Duncan, darling. I will stay here and buy you time. I’ll kill every bastard that comes through that door!"  
"No Mother! I won’t let you!"  
Bryce looked at Eleanor as she held him close, he nodded and she nodded back. She looked up at Duncan, "You have your orders, Duncan," she said. "I love you my darling daughter. Tell your brother, we love him too." She held out Oren’s horse. "Give him this and the ring." A massive crashing noise was heard that shook the walls. "Go now! They are coming!"  
"No! Mother! Father!" Brianna screamed as Duncan grabbed her around the waist and took the horse from the Teyrna, stuffing it into his belt. When Brianna refused to follow him, he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her through the passage as she screamed. The last sound she heard was the heavy metal door of the passage slamming behind them.  
Ostagar  
She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, or ever would for that matter.  
Reddish brown hair hung in large curls around her shoulders and her eyes were bluer than the sky. Lightly tanned skin proved she was an outdoors type and her shape held all the curves of a woman with the muscles of long hours of weapons training and strength. Alistair was speechless as he watched her walk up to meet him as he stood near the fire with Duncan.  
"Alistair, this is Ser Jory, from Redcliffe, late of Highever and Daveth from Denerim," announced Duncan. The girl had stopped to stand between the two men, whom she was obviously familiar with. "And this is Brianna, also from Highever."  
Brianna. The name echoed in his head as he looked down at her. "How...how do you do," he stammered as he looked at her.  
"Good afternoon, Alistair," she said, smiling slightly at his regard. "I am pleased to finally meet you." Even her voice held the promise of pleasure as she spoke.  
Jory and Daveth smiled down at their fellow recruit and politely greeted Alistair but he only had eyes for Brianna. "Yes…me too," he replied.  
Duncan suppressed a laugh as he watched the exchange in front of him. In the six months he’d known Alistair, he’d seen the boy with dozens of women of all ages, sizes, shapes and races, but never had he seen him speechless in front of one. This would be fun to watch. "Very well, Alistair will be taking you in to the Wilds to collect three vials of darkspawn blood to be used in the Joining ceremony. There is also an abandoned Grey Warden outpost there and I have charged him with retrieving a cache of documents that were left there for safekeeping." He looked over at Alistair, who was still staring at Brianna, "Alistair?"  
When Alistair didn’t answer, Duncan bumped him with his arm. "Huh?" he answered, tearing his gaze away from the girl.  
"You are responsible for them while you are gone. Return to me as soon as you have finished. I will set the mages to preparing." To the recruits he continued, "The rest of you are warned that this is a test. Fight well and stay together and you will live." The three of them looked at each other, their eyes wide and nodded their understanding.  
Alistair pulled on his helmet and gestured towards the gate, "Shall we?" Jory put on his helmet and Daveth and Brianna pulled up their hoods. He led the way to the gates, showing the guard his pass to leave, before heading out to Wilds.  
Brianna was definitely not what he was expecting. They hadn’t gone twenty yards before she opened fire on a wolf that had been lying in wait in a clump of bushes, continuing her fire on the rest of the pack as they came to their mate’s rescue. Alistair was amazed when he found she hadn’t missed a shot and several had been from over a hundred yards away. "Where did you learn to shoot like that?" he asked her as she knelt down and began skinning the wolves.  
Brianna huffed as she pulled her skinning knife through a particularly tough piece of the wolf’s hide, "My father had my brother and I taught by a Dalish master."  
"Dalish master?" Alistair looked down at the carnage around him and then back at her. Dalish masters who sold their services were expensive and rare. "Who are you?"  
"You mean you don’t know, mate?" asked Daveth. He looked over at Jory and they both began to laugh.  
"What’s going on here?" Alistair asked, scratching his head. "Did I miss something?"  
Jory stood up and made the formal introduction, "Alistair, may I present Lady Brianna Cousland, daughter of the Teyrn of Highever."  
"Lady…oh, I didn’t know."  
Brianna stood up and wiped her knife on a rag. "No one knows except the king and Duncan. The only reason Daveth knows is because I knew Jory when he worked for my father and Jory told Daveth." She pulled out a ball of twine and handed it to Daveth to bind up the pelts.  
"So how did you come to be here?" Alistair asked her. Brianna grew quiet and he sensed something very wrong by the way she carried herself. "I’m sorry, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s all right. Many of us have secrets here."  
Brianna took a deep breath and looked up at Alistair, "Becoming a Warden was the price for saving my life." She stuffed the pelts into her pack and shouldered her bow before walking to a nearby pond to clean her hands.  
Alistair watched her go, wondering what could have been so horrible that she would have to choose between dying and becoming a Warden. He looked back at Jory and Daveth, "Come on; we have a ways yet to go." He led the way to the pond to pick up Brianna and together the four continued on in search of the outpost and the darkspawn.

@@@@@

The darkspawn blood had been easy to find as there seemed to be plenty of the beasts around to collect it from. Alistair made the cuts on the creatures, holding the vials as the blood drained into each one, then capping them and placing them in a pouch for safekeeping. "Let’s go find that outpost. Duncan thought it might be up that way on the hill."  
The group trekked up the hill and Alistair found himself watching Brianna as they walked. She had been too quiet as they had walked along; making him feel that she had been hurt somehow with his questions and Jory and Daveth’s laughter at her identity. She had continued on, pulling her daggers and proving her skills with them several times in melee combat. He was most impressed with her skills and would be happy to have her guard his back in any fight.  
When she dispatched a hurlock with one of her throwing knives, he took the opportunity to compliment her, "Good one."  
"Thank you, "she had said curtly and walked on.  
Alistair caught up to her, stopping her with his hand, "What’s the matter? All I gave you was a compliment."  
Brianna turned on him, "I know your kind, Alistair. I’ve heard all about you. Compliment the pretty girl enough and she’ll share your bed, or were the bushes more to your taste?"  
"I never said…." he countered defensively.  
"But you would have." She stared him down as he fought for a retort. "Am I wrong?"  
Alistair defended himself, "How do you know what I was going to say? For all you know, I actually think that it was a good shot." He stared down at her, his nostrils flaring.  
"Well, we’ll never know, will we?" she threw back at him as she walked on down the path with Jory, heading for the ruin at the top of the hill.  
Alistair followed her, muttering, "Bitch." Daveth followed him, laughing in his wake.  
At the top of the hill, they engaged a group of a half dozen darkspawn, dispatching them quickly. They entered the ruin, finding the chest hidden in a corner, broken and in pieces. "Shit!" exclaimed Alistair as he kicked at the pieces. "That does it."  
Brianna could tell the chest had been broken for many years and water had damaged it severely. When she had picked up the remnants of the lid, they had fallen apart from rot. "This was done long ago. Whatever was here is gone or destroyed by the elements." She tossed the pieces down. "What now?"  
"What have we here, I wonder?" they heard out of nowhere.  
The woman moved like a cat as she approached them. Dark haired with golden eyes, Brianna could sense the power within her and knew her for a mage. She spared a glance at Alistair, who nodded slightly. "We are Grey Wardens who seek the contents of this chest," she told the girl.  
"It has been gone these many years. Taken." said the girl.  
"Do you know who has them?" asked Brianna politely.  
"You will need to speak to my mother about that. Follow me."  
They followed her warily to a hut not far from the ruins. An old woman warned them about the Blight and handed them the treaties, her voice running chills up Brianna’s spine, causing her to shiver. "Thank you," she said politely.  
"You are welcome," the old woman replied. "Morrigan will lead you back to the fortress."  
"Come with me," said Morrigan as she walked back through the woods, taking a shorter route than they had come. After about a half hour, she pointed to a rise on the hill, "The fortress is there." They looked up and saw the walls but when they looked back, Morrigan was gone and a lone silver wolf was running down the path they had come.  
Daveth raised his bow and took aim but Brianna stayed his hand, "Don’t. Let it go this time."  
"That was creepy," commented Alistair as he watched the wolf disappear into the woods. "Come on, there’s still a lot to do." He led the way back into the fortress, pausing once to look behind him, the feeling of dread refusing to go away.

@@@@@

"How did it go?" Duncan asked Alistair as he handed his commander the documents.  
"It was…interesting," he replied sarcastically.  
"Oh? How so?"  
Alistair looked over to where the recruits were sitting, talking and cleaning their weapons. "You didn’t say who she really was."  
"No, I didn’t. She asked me not to. There are those who would use it against her here and those who would coddle her. She wanted none of either."  
"So I noticed. What did you tell her about me?" Alistair asked with a touch of defiance.  
Duncan’s eyebrows rose, "I told her nothing about you, Alistair, but I can’t say that anyone else might have talked with her. Why do you ask?"  
"No reason. I just wondered. Do you still want a report? I think you know what I’m going to say."  
His commander crossed his arms across his chest, "Okay, tell me your assessment."  
"Daveth seems able to handle any fight easily. His woodsman skills are an asset to any group. Jory is a powerful fighter but is too hesitant when it comes to decision making. His personal concerns often outweigh the good of the group."  
"I see. What of Brianna?"  
"Amazing. She hit a half dozen wolves dead on from over a hundred yards away without a miss. Daggers, bow, and throwing knives, she can do it all. She says she trained with a Dalish master." Alistair paused then spoke again. "What happened to her?"  
Duncan’s face took on a look of quiet pain and he walked away from the fire to a nearby wall, motioning Alistair to follow. "Highever Castle was attacked last week by troops loyal to Arl Howe. The entire Cousland family was murdered and Brianna is the only known survivor. Her brother Fergus is missing here in the Wilds and cannot be found."  
Alistair looked over at the fire where Brianna sat, polishing her daggers. "Maker’s breath! All of them? How did she get out? She says that becoming a Warden was the price for saving her life."  
"It was. I had gone to the castle with the intention of recruiting her from the start. I saw an opportunity and took it. She is an asset and we are fortunate to have her."  
"Damn Duncan! Are we so desperate that we have to take advantage of a young girl’s grief now?" Alistair stated angrily. "Wasn’t it bad enough how you got me?"  
"I saved you Alistair," Duncan replied then turned and left him standing in the shadows.

@@@@@

The young elven girl hadn’t much skill but she was thorough. Alistair pulled up his breeks and tied them, then opened his purse and handed her a silver for her work. "Thank you, ser," she had said as she wiped her mouth and stood up from where she had knelt in front of him. "Will you require my services again, ser?"  
"No love, that was fine. Thanks," Alistair had replied. For some reason, he had no desire to take it farther.  
"Maker keep you in the battle tomorrow, ser," the girl said before she ran off into the dark. Alistair watched her go then turned and walked to the fire, the events of the night taking their toll.  
The Joining ceremony had been nothing like he had remembered. He had spoken the words that had been spoken months before at his own Joining at the Denerim compound, and then Duncan had told Daveth to step forward and drink from the chalice. Alistair had seen what could happen when the Joining failed as it had for one of the men at his own ceremony. It was no less terrible than it had been six months before. Duncan had had to slit Daveth’s throat to spare him the agony and give him a quick death. Jory had been so frightened he had pulled his sword and attacked Duncan, who had killed him in self-defense.  
Brianna had stood next to him where Alistair had pulled her for her own safety, watching the spectacle before her, soundless but terrified. Duncan handed her the chalice and her hands had shaken badly as she took and drank from it, handing it back to Duncan when she had finished. She took a step back and put her hand to her head and closed her eyes. Alistair stepped behind her at Duncan’s motion, ready to catch her if she fell. Suddenly she screamed and doubled over, rising just as quickly and passing out. He caught her and gently lowered her to the ground.  
"Is she…?" Alistair asked, his voice full of worry.  
"She is well and will recover soon. Stay with her while I see to Jory and Daveth," Duncan ordered him. He left the temple for a few moments, leaving Alistair alone with Brianna.  
Alistair smoothed the hair from her face and checked her pulse. It was slowing but she was murmuring something. He bent down and heard, "Rory….please…help me….no!" She began to thrash and he lifted her up and held her close, stroking her hair to sooth her. She was screaming names as she thrashed about. With one last scream, she called out to the man named Rory and her eyes opened, at first unseeing but soon focusing. She looked up to find herself in Alistair’s arms. "What…?"  
"Easy. You passed out from the Joining. Do you remember?" he answered. Slowly he helped her sit up. Brianna looked over and saw Rohan and three other men lift Jory and Daveth’s bodies from the ground and carry them into the darkness. Alistair knew what she was thinking, "They will see them on. You can go if you’d like."  
"I would like to retrieve Jory’s ring if I might. I know his wife. She is from Highever."  
"I’ll take you when they’re ready. It will take some time to prepare the pyre," he answered. He stood up and held out his hand to help her up.  
"Thank you," she said quietly as she took his hand.  
Duncan approached them both as they spoke, "Better? I am sorry that you had to witness what you did. This was not a typical ceremony, I assure you. Our secrets must be kept, you understand." He turned and looked down the steps towards the war council table at the other end of the courtyard. "The king has requested that Brianna appear before him at the war council. Alistair will see to the rest of this. Come with me Brianna."  
Brianna looked at Alistair, "Go," he told her, "I will come get you when it is time." She nodded and followed Duncan down the steps.  
After she had left, Alistair had put away the chalice and cleaned up the blood, but his mood was so foul he had sought out the elven girl for comfort. When it didn’t help, he knew something had changed and the feeling of dread appeared again.

@@@@@

Brianna felt the tears as they tracked down her face. She had helped see Jory and Daveth off to the Maker, lighting the pyre in the place of honor as she was the only one who had known both men. Alistair had retrieved Jory’s ring and personal effects for her as well as Daveth’s. The fire had blazed bright in the clearing and it was then that she began to hear them. The buzzing in the back of her head that wouldn’t go away, whispers of a dark and evil nature. She closed her eyes and shook her head.  
"It won’t help," Alistair had said.  
"What is it?" she asked.  
"It’s the horde. We can hear them. Most of the time it’s just a slight buzzing in the back of your head but it’s getting louder."  
"Why?"  
"The Archdemon is talking to them, giving orders and promising things. Soon he will talk to you too. That’s when the nightmares really start."  
Brianna hugged herself as she watched the flames engulf the bodies, "Do they ever go away?"  
"No. Some can tune them out. I usually can but lately I have to work at it. I don’t sleep well here either."  
"I see." She closed her eyes and murmured a prayer then turned from him and walked back to camp. Alistair looked at the pyre one last time then followed her.  
At the campsite, Alistair had volunteered to keep watch, an uncharacteristic move on his part. "What’s all this about boy?" Malcolm had asked. "Not like you to volunteer for anything."  
"I don’t much feel like sleeping," he answered.  
"So go find that pretty elven girl I’ve seen you with. She’s the type to make it better or at least forget it for a while."  
Alistair turned to the fire, "Not tonight."  
"Suit yourself. Wake me if you get tired and I’ll take a turn. Night lad," Malcolm took off for his tent.  
He looked over and saw Brianna sleeping by the fire, wrapped in blankets. She nearly had to sell nearly everything she had to get them. Alistair had offered to loan her the money but she had simply said, "I don’t need to be beholden to you, Alistair." He wouldn’t have been angry except that she had turned to Rohan and borrowed the money from him instead.  
Try as he could, Alistair could not figure Brianna out. Here she was, a noblewoman, and probably a teyrn if the information was correct about her brother, but she goes through the Joining and becomes a Grey Warden when she should be at the head of her own army. If it had been him, he would have taken the first road out of here and sought revenge on Howe, yet she stayed. It simply made no sense.  
On top of it all, she clearly wanted nothing to do with him. He’d found out that Grigor had told Daveth about his escapades in the Denerim whorehouse the night before they left for Ostagar. Daveth, in his awe or amusement, had promptly told Jory and Brianna. Now she thought him a womanizer and a drunk on top of it all. Normally he wouldn’t have complained; he was a womanizer and a drunk. But something made him want her to think better of him. He just wished he could figure out why.  
The girl on his mind began to toss and turn in her sleep, a nightmare already upon her. She began to cry and he went over to sit next to her. She screamed, sat up quickly and began to cry. Turning to Alistair, she threw herself into his arms and he held her as she cried. "Shhh…it’s all right. It’s just a bad dream," he repeated to her. When she had calmed, he let her go. "Go sleep in my tent. It’s over there." He pointed to a tent near the fortress wall.  
"Where will you sleep?" she asked as she sniffed.  
"Here by the fire. I’m not really tired and I’m on watch tonight. Get some rest." He turned back to the fire and she got up and slowly walked to the tent by the wall and entered it. Putting another log on the fire, he tried to find a million other things to think about instead of the beautiful woman in his bed.

@@@@@

Brianna heard Duncan calling her from outside the tent just before daybreak, "Get dressed and meet me at the fire." She heard him walk away and she was alone again.  
Sleep had come slowly for her the night before. The nightmares stayed away after the first one but there were other things that weighed on her heavily. To keep herself busy, she had tidied up Alistair’s tent and had nosed about his belongings, trying to find out something about him that explained who he was.  
She’d known many men like him in her short life; selfish men who wanted their own pleasure and strayed towards her because of her looks and money. Brianna knew she wasn’t unpleasant to look at and that she was rich but she was also a person, not a title or a thing to conquer, hence her refusal of three suitors. The only man who had ever seen her as she truly wanted was Rory. Her heart wrenched as she thought of him, red hair and good humor, always ready to lend a hand or give a smile. She missed him so much along with her parents, Oriana and Oren. The thought of them made her furious so she put them in the back of her mind to keep herself going.  
Alistair seemed to be just like most of the others, based on what Daveth and Jory had told her and what she had heard from the other Wardens. But when had she awakened from the Joining in his arms, she knew there was more to him and she wanted to know what it was.  
She looked down at the items lying on the blanket in front of her and tried to put them in some sort of context. There were three books, one on history, a novel and a volume of poetry. There was another book that, when she had inspected it, she had discovered was a journal of some sort so she didn’t read it. Her father had had a book like that and he had told her once that most men didn’t want their journals read so she respected Alistair’s privacy. There was also a bottle of fine brandy, a pair of spectacles and a bottle of scented oil. The oil smelled of sandalwood and she remembered the bottle just like it that she had found in her parent’s dresser when she was younger. Oriana had had one too and had giggled when she told Brianna that she used it during sex to "help things along." The bottle of oil was the only thing in the collection that made sense to her based on what she knew.  
"Brianna? Are you still there?" Alistair’s voice made her jump and a huge wave of guilt washed over her.  
"Y…yes. What is it?" she asked him.  
"Duncan needs us at the fire and I…I kinda need in my tent for a bit to change."  
"Oh! Of course, Alistair. Just a minute and I’ll be out." She hurriedly put the items back where she had found them and pulled on her boots. Grabbing her weapons and cloak, she crawled out of the tent to find him waiting for her.  
"Everything all right?" he asked her.  
Brianna tied her cloak over her shoulders, "Yes." He nodded and turned to enter the tent when he heard her say, "Thank you, Alistair." His head popped out only to see her walking away. When he got back inside, he smiled. His tent had never been so clean and neat.

The Korcari Wilds

The pain was never ending.  
Alistair tossed and turned in his dementia, wondering if he was lost in the Fade or dead. He had decided that he must be dead and wandering in oblivion since he knew the Maker would never have him by his side; not with all that he done in his life. There were glimpses of things along the way, people, places that were recognizable and familiar but they darted away as soon as he focused on them. The most familiar were a dark haired man and a beautiful dark haired girl. They haunted him, appearing for a moment then disappearing, leaving chaos in their wake until the next time. He cried out for them.  
"Shhh…calm yourself," came the soothing voice of a woman. He felt the cool cloth as someone bathed his face and chest, giving him relief from the heat that raged in his body. The soft hand caressed his face with the cloth and he heard the sound of chanting from nearby and the smelled burning herbs. The hands held a cup of water to his lips and he drank greedily.  
"Brianna…" he said, "Where are you?"  
"Shhh. She is well. Rest and all will be revealed," said the soothing voice. He felt a peaceful mist descend upon him and he drifted off into sleep again.  
When he awoke again, the woman was gone but he still wasn’t alone. He was lying on a bed in a small hut and there was someone else with him. Alistair tried to raise his head but there was no strength in his body to do so. He managed to turn his head just enough and saw her.  
Brianna lay next to him, as naked as he was, but covered in many poultices and bandages, the largest wrapped around her head. She moaned and muttered incoherently and he knew she was delirious with pain or fever or both. He tried once more to raise himself but there was no strength in his muscles. "Brianna?" he asked. When she quieted, he knew she had heard him. "Brianna? It’s Alistair. I’m here." The girl began to relax at the sound of his voice and his hand found hers and took it in his own, squeezing it. "I’m here," he repeated as he drifted off to sleep, her hand still in his.  
When next he woke, he found the strength to rise, eating the broth that was handed to him and downing the bread that was offered. His head hurt but he was cool and alive. Brianna still lay next to him, unconscious. "Brianna?" he called. When there was no answer, he turned to the dark haired girl who stood next to him. She was the same one they had met when they had gone looking for the treaties. "Will she live?" he asked, afraid of what she might answer.  
"She has suffered an injury to her skull. It will take time to heal as such things always do, but I think she will live. How do you feel?" the girl asked.  
"Like I was run over by a herd of horses a dozen times or so. How long have we been here and when can I get up?"  
"You have been here three weeks now. Mother wants you to stay in here for a bit longer but you may get up and stretch your muscles if you wish. There is a chamber pot in the corner if you need it. I will get you something to wear. I have mended your clothes." She walked over to a table at the other side of the room and returned with a shirt and small clothes. "Put these on. I will be outside." She turned and exited the hut, leaving him alone with Brianna.  
Alistair donned his shirt and smallclothes slowly and turned back to his fellow Warden. She appeared to be sleeping but the sleep was very deep and his attempts at rousing her were not successful. The girl returned with a pitcher and bucket that she set down next to the door and on the table. "Why won’t she wake?" he asked.  
"Mother has placed a spell on her that will keep her asleep for a while longer. Her brain must be given time to heal itself. The best and fastest way is for her to rest and not use it." She indicated the bucket she had brought. "I have brought water to wash if you wish."  
Alistair turned to the girl, "Did you by chance manage to save my pack?"  
The girl turned and picked up a pack and handed it to him. "The contents may be damaged. There were many arrows stuck in it when you arrived."  
"Thank you…what was your name?"  
"Morrigan."  
"Thank you, Morrigan."  
Morrigan nodded and left him alone. Alistair rummaged through the pack and pulled out his journal, pen and ink. There was much to put down while he waited.

@@@@@

Three weeks later, Alistair found himself in an open space next to the little hut, doing his fighting exercises to build strength in his muscles while he waited for Brianna to heal. Rufus was his constant companion having tracked them to the hut, arriving two weeks earlier. The dog was anguished as Morrigan refused to let him in the hut. He was beginning to worry Brianna would never recover.  
The girl Morrigan and her mother had been most hospitable to them, even to the point of offering to spar with him while he trained. While both women were mages, they both had training in small weapons and were able to give him something to aim at while he worked out. He was grateful for their assistance to the point of doing several odd jobs for them such as mending the roof and chopping wood. It was an agreeable way to pass the time while he waited.  
Morrigan had told him what had happened while they were fighting at the Tower of Ishal. After they had lit the fire to signal Loghain to charge, he had taken his army and quit the field, leaving the king, Duncan, the Wardens and everyone else to die in his wake. They had marched north up the Imperial Highway, pillaging and stealing along the way. Morrigan’s mother had kept their location secret through her use of magic so they had not been bothered. It was too much to bear. They were alone.  
When Brianna emerged from the hut after six weeks of confinement, she was pale and thin and the light had returned to her eyes, but had left Alistair’s. He stood by the lake, staring at the water, when Morrigan’s mother announced her presence.  
Rufus barked and ran to her side, jumping up and down. Alistair approached her slowly, looking her over from head to toe. "You’re alive."  
"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.  
"They’re all dead. Duncan, the Wardens, even Cailan. Gone."  
"I know."  
"I don’t know what to do now."  
Brianna thought a moment, "I guess we should try to find someone alive out there. There is still the horde to worry about."  
"It would take an army to defeat them and the Archdemon and I don’t know how." He said defeated.  
"How to raise an army? Perhaps these will help," said the old woman. She handed them the treaties they had salvaged before.  
"Who are you?" asked Brianna. "You have never told us."  
"The Chasind call me Flemeth. That will do."  
Alistair looked down at Brianna, "Is that what we are going to do then?"  
"Why not? It’s all we have to go on," she replied. Smiling, she continued, "Isn’t that what Grey Wardens are supposed to do?"  
He thought for a moment then smiled slightly. "I suppose it is."  
"Good! Then there is one thing I can do to help you," said Flemeth.  
An hour later, they found themselves on the road north, Morrigan leading the way.

Lothering

He’d been quiet since they had left Flemeth’s hut and it worried her. Alistair had always been jovial, teasing and talkative every time she had been with him until now. Now he was quiet and pensive, rarely speaking to anyone and they had been on the road for three days now.  
At night, he took his watch when it was his turn. Even Rufus noticed his mood, trying his best to cheer him up. When Alistair didn’t respond, he went back to Brianna and curled up next to her. "You tried, boy," she said, scratching his ears.  
Now they stood on a hill, looking down at the small town of Lothering; it had grown into a city overnight. "There it is," he said.  
"Coming back to us, are you?" teased Morrigan.  
Alistair glared down at her, "Is it so horrible to grieve for the people I knew and cared for?"  
"No. It is horrible to moan and wail about it though." Morrigan laughed. "Is that next?"  
"Bitch," he said and started down the hill towards the village. Morrigan laughed.  
"Leave him alone, Morrigan," Brianna said. "He’ll come around."  
"You lost your entire family in the attack on your home and you don’t moan and complain half as much as he does," Morrigan pointed out. When she saw Brianna’s face, she stopped, cleared her throat and walked away. Brianna followed quietly behind, Morrigan’s words stinging in their truth.  
Lothering proved to be an interesting place for them. They managed to sell several items they had scavenged during their journey, earning enough money to outfit them until they could get to Redcliffe. Alistair had discovered an old friend, Ser Donall, in the Chantry who had told him that Arl Eamon was seriously ill but that his army was still intact and ready. They had decided that would be their next destination.  
Alistair became more depressed after talking Ser Donall and that night, while they camped near a stream outside of the town, he disappeared. Brianna looked everywhere for him and he was nowhere to be found. "The rest of you stay here and guard the camp, I’ll take Rufus and look for him." They had recruited Leliana earlier in the day at the local tavern, where she had helped them fight off some of Loghain’s men and they had released Sten from a crow’s cage at the edge of town, where he had been imprisoned for murder.  
Brianna asked several people if they had seen Alistair but no one had so she continued on to the Chantry. A young Templar guard stood at the door and beckoned her over. "You are one of the Grey Wardens who was here earlier?" Brianna nodded. "You’ll find your friend inside." She thanked the man, pulled open the door and quietly walked down the center aisle.  
He was sitting on a bench on the front row, looking up at the statue of Andraste that stood on the altar. He had a bottle of brandy in one hand and a copy of the Chant of Light in the other. "Alistair?" she asked warily, noticing the bottle was nearly empty.  
"Brianna! Come to join me? You’re a bit late, but we could scrounge up another bottle." His words were slurred and he teetered back and forth on the bench.  
"What are doing here? We didn’t know where you were," she asked, taking the bottle from his hand. She sniffed it and found it was the same bottle he had had at Ostagar, nearly empty now.  
"And so is the Golden City blackened, with each step you take in my Hall. Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting. You have brought Sin to Heaven, and doom upon all the world," he recited, looking up at the statue in front of him.  
"Alistair, what are you doing here?"  
"I’ve come to pay homage to Andraste and the Maker." He took the brandy from her and raised it up to the statue, "I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade. For there is neither darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light, and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost." He took the brandy from her, "To Duncan! Hope it’s bright in the Maker’s light!" He drank the rest of the brandy and threw the bottle down, shattering it on the floor.  
"Come on, Alistair, time for bed," she said, trying to pull him to his feet.  
"Bed? Good! I don’t want to be alone."  
"I meant that you will go to sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow. Come on!" She pulled him to his feet and put his arm around her shoulders to steady him. Together they walked to the camp, where she put him down on his pallet by the fire and removed his boots and armor. He lay down and looked up at her, smiling broadly.  
"Brianna; a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. You are so beautiful, you know," he said as he brought his hand up to her shoulder and pulled her down. "So beautiful…" His lips met hers and he pulled her against him.  
Briana felt herself melt and her lips part as his tongue found hers. He tasted of brandy and desire and it shook her hard. "Alistair…please stop," she panted, pushing him away.  
He pulled away and lay back down on the pallet, closing his eyes, "So beautiful….the most beautiful girl I’ve even seen."  
She covered him with his blanket as he drifted off to sleep, his kiss still hot on her lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story contains possible trigger scenes for sexual abuse. Read with care.

Redcliffe

"Brianna?" was how it had started. "Can I speak with you in private?"  
Alistair appeared nervous for the first time since she had known him. He stood near Bodahn’s wagon, wiping his palms on his breeks, a light sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead even though the day was cool. "Okay, what about?" she answered, walking over to him. He led her part way into the forest, just far enough for them to have some privacy.  
"There’s something I need to tell you that you really need to know before we get to Redcliffe," he announced.  
"All right. What is it?" she asked. He turned and paced back and forth, causing Brianna to worry about him. "Alistair, are you all right? You seem awfully upset about something."  
"Upset? Oh…I suppose I am. It’s just….well. Remember when I told you that I was born in Redcliffe and the Arl raised me before I was sent to the Chantry school in Denerim?"  
"Yes, I remember. The Arlessa didn’t want you around."  
"Right. Well…there’s a little more to the story that you should know." He paced back and forth again and Brianna put out a hand to stop him.  
"Alistair? What is the matter with you?" she asked worriedly. "This isn’t like you at all."  
"No, I don’t suppose it is." He stopped and took a deep breath and turned to her, "Okay, here goes. I told you my mother was a serving girl at the castle and the Arl was kind enough to take me in when she died and see me schooled and trained. Right?"  
"Yes. That’s what you said."  
"I…uh…didn’t tell you who my father was."  
Brianna thought a moment, "No, you didn’t. I was under the impression you didn’t know. It’s actually quite common on estates of that size."  
"I actually do know. In fact, you’ve met him. You told me you did."  
Her brow knitted up as she tried to recall telling him who she had met and hadn’t met. "Who is he?"  
Alistair took another deep breath and looked up from where he was staring at the ground. "King Maric."  
Brianna’s eyes became large and her mouth fell open, "K…King Maric?" She staggered over to a nearby log and sat down hard. "So…you are a prince?"  
"I guess so. I’m a twenty two year old bastard prince Grey Warden. Quite the title, huh? I always thought it fit me."  
Brianna was suddenly speechless as she regarded her fellow Warden and campmate. Of all the things he could have told her, this was the one that was the most far-fetched and yet, the most believable. "Not just a bastard but a royal bastard. The shoe does fit." She clamped her mouth shut as soon as the words came out, certain she had insulted him gravely.  
It was Alistair’s turn for his mouth to fall open and be speechless right before he started to grin and began to laugh. "A royal bastard!" He laughed so hard he began to choke and she started laughing with him. "That has be the explanation for the way I am! I love it!"  
"You’re welcome," she said, smiling at him. It was the first time since Ostagar that she had seen him laugh. "Any other secrets in your closet?’  
"No. You’ve seen my clothes and shoes and my smallclothes are white. No more secrets," he joked. "You needed to know before we got there. It would be difficult if it came up so I wanted you to know first."  
Brianna was honored that he chose to tell her. "So no one else knows?"  
"Just Arl Eamon, Cailan, Duncan and I suppose Loghain knows. He seems to know everything about my father, as close as they were. And then you."  
It suddenly occurred to Brianna the enormity of what he had just told her. "Alistair? You could be king," she said breathlessly and in awe.  
Now it was his turn to sit. "Do you think so?" he said, looking at her. "I never even thought about it. Is that why I was sent to the abbey? To learn to lead?"  
"Perhaps. The abbey school turns out leaders every day. Not all of them take orders; some go back to their homes and lead armies. Or…countries."  
"Holy shit! That changes everything now!" She sat down next to him on the log. "What do I do, Brianna?"  
Brianna was at a loss as to what to tell him. "I don’t know. Fight darkspawn for now, I guess. Cross one bridge at a time, my father always said."  
Alistair turned to look at her. "That’s who should have been king, you know. Your father, he could lead."  
"Thank you Alistair. He could lead and I wish he was here to help us. He’d know just what to do."  
"You do all right too, you know." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I…I wanted to apologize for the other night. I took advantage and worried you unnecessarily. I am sorry."  
Brianna’s eyes went wide as she listened to him, remembering his kiss. "Apology accepted. It’s forgotten."  
Alistair stood up and looked down at her, his mouth curved in a half smile as he replied in a husky voice that dripped desire, "No, it isn’t." He walked back to camp, leaving her with the memory of his kiss on her mind.

@@@@@

The battle had been fierce and most unusual. Brianna hadn't thought she'd end up fighting the undead, but as a Warden, she was discovering that normal was a relative term that depended on location and situation.  
Alistair hadn't been happy to return to his home and was surprised to find that many of the villagers remembered him, most in a good way. He had been the recipient of several free ales and had been introduced to more than one woman's single daughter during the day. He took most of it in stride, drinking only some of the ales, but flirting with all of the daughters. His Uncle Teagan had laughed, saying, "Some things will never change."  
"Uncle" Teagan had been the biggest surprise to her. He had put himself and his lands and people at her disposal, never questioning her authority. A tall handsome man in his mid-thirties, she had heard rumors about his womanizing ways at several of her mother's salons. It had not surprised her to find out that Alistair had been introduced to the joys of women during a visit from his beloved uncle while he was a student at the abbey.  
"Fifteen? You were fifteen?" she exclaimed. "Why do boys always think they have to rush? Fergus was fourteen when he took to it. Father thought he would have to lock him up so the maids could get their work done."  
Alistair looked down at her with a surprised look, and then pushed the conversation in the wrong direction, "So...how old were you?"  
Brianna turned bright red and stopped dead in her tracks. "You want to know when I...?'  
"Yes," was the firm answer.  
She was frustrated and she knew he'd get it out of her. "Eighteen."  
"Why then?" he asked curiously.  
"At eighteen I was told that I could take a lover if I wished. I had...finished my training."  
"Your training? Combat?"  
"Bedsport," she answered.  
Alistair's eyes went large as he contemplated what she had told him, "You mean to tell me, your parents saw that you were trained in sex?"  
"Actually it was my mother and sister in law."  
"Whatever for?" he asked, totally baffled. "Not that I should complain."  
Brianna began to blush beet red as she tried to find a way to end the conversation. "My mother thought that if I were to marry well, I needed to know what I was doing. She made sure I had training in all aspects of the act of love. ALL aspects."  
“What about your brother? Was he trained too?”  
“You’d have to ask Fergus; Father took care of that part of his education. When we were ready, our parents took us to the Pearl and we…chose who we wanted. He was quite good as I recall.”  
"Andraste's holy ass! Just when I think I have you figured out!"  
She smiled a sly smile and added, "And I don't usually have to pay for it, either."  
"Neither do I," he replied. "Seems we have something in common." He walked on up the hill to the tavern and his lunch. Brianna stood watching him, wondering just what she had started.

Highever Castle, Two Years Earlier

Indeed, both her mother and Oriana had schooled her in several methods of pleasing both men and women. Brianna’s mother had no experience with other women as she had always preferred men but Oriana had been born and raised in Antiva, where such things were common and often encouraged among the nobility. Oriana had taught her well, to the point of allowing her to practice her skills with her when Fergus was away from the castle. It had been an interesting time and not without its pleasures but Brianna was like her mother in many ways, and preferred men.  
At eighteen, she was informed by her mother that she was free to take a lover if she wished, but was told that children were out of the question. Methods of birth control were made available to her if she was so inclined. She hadn’t jumped into bed with the first person that struck her fancy; preferring to wait until there was more to the relationship. It was then that her parents decided that she should “break the ice” and one summer’s evening, they took her to the Pearl where she was allowed an entire night with the man of her choice. He was blond haired, blue eyed, and was the most talented worker in the house. Brianna had had the time of her life.  
It was then that Rory came into view.  
Roland Gilmore had been ten years old when he had been brought to the castle by his father, a minor bann from the eastern side of the country who had sworn fealty to the Couslands in return for protection for his lands. As part of his oath, he was entitled to send one boy or girl to Highever each year to be trained for the possibility of knighthood. That year he had sent his only son, called Rory.  
Rory had been a terror as a boy. The same age and temperament as Fergus, they had been inseparable, pulling pranks, hunting, fishing and sparring. Their chief target had always been Brianna. Four years younger than they, she had followed them everywhere to their dismay, pestering and bothering them until the Teyrn was forced to lay down the law. Fergus and Rory were to stop teasing Brianna and in return, Brianna would stop pestering them. For her cooperation, her father had allowed her to train with Thane, the Dalish bowman he had hired to better his troops. She had become his best student.  
When he was eighteen, Bryce had taken Fergus on a long trip to the Free Marches, Orlais and Antiva with the idea of making trade deals for Highever. The true nature of the trip, however, was to find Fergus a wife. Six months later, he had returned with Oriana, a sixteen year old beauty with golden brown hair. They had married immediately and settled at Highever, where Oriana became pregnant quickly. Oren had been born just before their first anniversary. They were both very much in love.  
Three years later, it began to change. Brianna had been working out in the yard with Thane, refining her draw for long distance shots. Rory had finished working with the younger squires and had stopped to watch her practice, marveling at her abilities. He had received his knighthood three years before and had stayed at Highever to work instead of returning home. When she hit a particularly difficult shot, he applauded, startling Brianna and making her jump. "Enough, miss. Put away your things and I’ll see you tomorrow," said Thane. "Good work today."  
"Thank you, Master Thane," she began to pick up her equipment and noticed that Rory was pulling her arrows from the target. She walked down to meet him. "I can do that."  
"I know you can. I thought I’d help," he had replied. He held out the arrows he had pulled and turned back to pull the rest. "So…I was wondering. Would you like to take a walk with me after supper?"  
Brianna was floored, "A walk…umm…okay. I can do that. Why?" she asked.  
Rory didn’t miss a beat, "I just thought…it would be nice to take a walk. We haven’t talked for a while."  
"No, we haven’t."  
" I’ll meet you in the garden by the fountain after supper, okay?” She nodded and he handed her the arrows. Brianna noticed he held onto her hand, "In the garden," he repeated, looking into her eyes. He released her hand and walked her back to the castle, leaving her in the hall.  
She watched him go, then turned and ran to her room, bolting the door and finding herself panting with anxiety, not knowing what to do next. Panicking, she opened the door and ran to the nursery, where she found Oriana playing with Oren. "Oh Maker, help me Oriana! Rory has asked me to walk out with him! What do I do?"  
Oriana had smiled her sweet smile and handed Oren off to his nurse, then took her sister in law back to her room, where she ordered a bath and went through her closet, looking for an appropriate dress. When all was through, she helped Brianna dress and combed her hair out into large curls on her shoulders. Standing back, she looked at her approvingly, "Lovely. Rory will be pleased, I know."  
"What do I do now?" she had asked her.  
"Just be yourself, love. You can do that. Let the rest come as it may. Talk about whatever he wants and be interested in what he says, even if you aren’t. He’ll be yours soon enough."  
"Okay," Brianna had replied, a little more at ease. They had walked to the hall arm and arm, giggling like girls.  
The walk had been wonderful and she had been surprised at how fun Rory was. He knew many jokes and was especially good at dirty ones, which she had loved. She hadn’t had to pretend interest in anything he said. They began to see each other whenever they could, sparring together, walking, hunting, and fishing. Soon they were in love and while she was terrified when he had asked her to sleep with him, she hadn’t been surprised. "Are you sure," she had asked him.  
“I want you so much, love. Please say yes!" he pleaded.  
Brianna had been thinking about it for weeks, worrying that he’d ask, "Yes, Rory. I will. Mother and Father are leaving tomorrow for Bann Loren’s for a visit. I’m staying behind with Fergus and Oriana. Come to me tomorrow night and I’ll let you in."  
"Maker! I love you! Tomorrow, after nine bells." He kissed her and held her close. "You made me so happy," he whispered.  
That night he had come to her as he promised and she had let him in. He was patient and kind, taking his time with her and making sure she enjoyed it as much as he. Afterward, they lay in her bed and he had kissed her, "I love you Brianna," he had told her.  
"I love you Rory," she answered. "Will you come to me again?"  
"Every night and twice on Sunday!" he laughed, turning her over and settling between her thighs. "Maybe I’ll never leave," he said as he entered her again and again. Morning had come too soon for either of them.  
Brianna came back from her memories and looked up the hill at her fellow Warden as he headed for the tavern. Maybe he was right; they had a lot more in common than they thought. She followed him up the hill.

Redcliffe

There had to be another way.  
"We can’t just outright kill an innocent young boy!" exclaimed Brianna. The memory of Oren, laying the nursery floor with his mother in a pool of blood assailed her and fueled her refusal. "There has to be another way!"  
"The Circle Tower," Alistair said. He had been silent for most of the exchange between herself, Teagan, the Arlessa and the mage, Jowan. "We can get lyrium and more mages there."  
Brianna looked over at him, "Would they consider it?"  
"If it’s an opportunity to get out of the Tower and show that their magic can be used for good, they’ll jump at it."  
She considered his words and turned back to Teagan. "I’ll leave Morrigan here to help you and Jowan keep control of Connor. The rest of us will journey to the Tower and see if we can bring back the mages to help us. We’ll leave in the morning after a rest. It has been a trying few days."  
"Of course, Warden," agreed Isolde. "I’ll see if I can scrape up some food for you. I’m afraid the servants…." She trailed off, remembering what had happened to her retainers and tears formed in her eyes.  
"Don’t not be concerned for us, my lady. Show us the kitchen and we’ll see to ourselves," replied Brianna. Teagan offered to show her the kitchen and gave her his arm, which she took gladly. "Thank you, my lord."  
"Please, it’s Teagan now. I think we’ve been through too much together to stand on ceremony," he told her as they walked.  
"Of course…Teagan."  
"Alistair, why didn’t you tell me what a gracious and lovely woman she is?" asked Teagan.  
"It didn’t come up, uncle," answered a disgusted Alistair as he followed them down the hall. Zevran poked Leliana in the ribs and the two of them began to laugh. Alistair turned around and faced them, "What?"  
"Nothing," Leliana replied. "Nothing at all." She looked back at Zevran and both began to giggle again. Alistair glared daggers at them and turned to follow Brianna and Teagan into the kitchen.  
Later that night, the companions gathered around a fire in a small sitting room, listening to Leliana’s stories and songs. Teagan was attentive to no one but Brianna, who enjoyed his company immensely after so many weeks on the road. At one point in the evening, she looked up and noticed Alistair had disappeared. Looking over at Sten, she asked, "Where is Alistair?"  
Sten was enjoying a plate of sweets that the Arlessa had had made up for him when she had heard how much he liked them. "He said something about being bored and needing a drink. He left about an hour ago." He offered her a sweet and she smiled and took it, turning back to listen to another story.  
When the evening had finished, Brianna thanked Teagan and Isolde for their hospitality and excused herself to go to her room. She was exhausted and needed rest. At the top of the stairs, she heard a noise coming from an alcove at the end of the hall near her room. Using her stealth skills, she slowly walked down the hallway, listening to see what the noise could be. As she got close, she noticed that it was two voices, one was Alistair’s and the other was decidedly feminine.  
"Oh yes, that’s it love," he crooned. "Maker! Where did you learn that? Do that again!" The girl giggled a strangled sort of laugh that spoke much more than words. Brianna backed up and slowly headed to her room, trying to ignore the bumps and thumps that were interspersed with moans coming from the alcove. She opened the door, closed it softly and went to bed. But while sleep didn’t come quickly, Alistair had.

The Circle Tower

Alistair looked down at Brianna, "You want to do what?"  
"I’m going in to help. There has to be someone alive in there. They can’t all be dead, Alistair," she pleaded.  
He took her arm and led her to a corner. "They’ve sent for the Rite of Annulment, Brianna. That means that when it arrives, they will open those doors and swarm in with an army, killing everything in their path until there’s no one left, possessed or not. If we are still in there when they come, we will die. I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking I’d like to live now."  
"So you won’t help me?"  
He looked down at her as she asked; she was so sure it was the right thing. He stepped up, "Sten, stay here and do whatever you can to keep them from opening those doors for anything except to let us out. We’ll take Zevran and Leliana with us and leave Rufus with you. The rest of you, pack lightly. Take food, water and as much healing potions and poultices as you can carry."  
Brianna looked up at him, "Why?"  
"I’ve recently discovered that I can’t say no to you. Don’t ask why."  
"Alistair?"  
"What?"  
"Thank you."  
"You owe me big time."  
"I’ll pay."  
"Yes ma’am, you will." To the others he said, "Let’s go."  
Alistair and Leliana murmured a part of the Chant of Light as they listened to the bolt being thrown, locking them in. They had met Wynne not long after the doors had closed. They had started a systematic search, room by room, finding only bodies at first, but coming across a group of children ranging in ages from teenagers down to a girl who couldn’t have been more than five. They were all being cared for by three older mages, a young man and girl in their late teens or early twenties and a striking woman of late middle age.  
"Who are you?" she demanded as she called upon her power.  
Alistair called on his Templar talents as a precaution before answering. "We are Grey Wardens, here to help. Are you all that are left?"  
"There may be others, but this is all I know of. Why did Greagoir allow you in? He has surely sent for the Rite by now."  
"They are waiting for the reinforcements. We have until then to find as many as we can and stop this," answered Brianna.  
Wynne walked to the wall and picked up a pack. Rummaging through it, she took out several items and handed them to the woman, called Petra. "Keep these, you will need them. I’ll see if I can scrounge up food and potions as I go. I know where there are some caches. Stay with the children and let nothing harm them." Petra nodded and Wynne hugged her and the man Kinnon. "I’m going with you. I think I know where they are. Follow me."  
"I’ll stay here and help guard the children," said Leliana. Alistair placed his hand on her shoulder and nodded. Leliana hugged him and whispered into his ear, causing him to blush a little and smile.  
"I’ll try," he replied. Leliana hugged Brianna and Zevran and they followed Wynne into the Tower. Petra reset the wards to insure nothing would enter and they were on their own.  
They continued their room by room search finding demons, abominations and possessed Templars everywhere. Wynne stopped occasionally and said a short prayer after a battle. It was then that Brianna realized that those she prayed for were those she had just killed, her friends and family. She was more determined than ever to succeed.  
After four floors of searching and fighting, they came upon the sloth demon and the real fight began.

@@@@@

"Alistair?" she called as she moved through the mist. "Where are you?" She knew he was there, she could sense him through the taint, "Alistair!"  
"Here," he said.  
Brianna found him standing in a room, lit with candles and firelight. A pretty blond girl who looked like him was there with a half dozen children of all sizes, each one blond like the girl. They laughed and talked, playing on the floor. Brianna looked up at Alistair and watched his face as he stared at the sight. "Uncle Alistair?" asked one of the children, "Come and play with me."  
Alistair hesitated before he knelt down on the floor with the girl, who had been building with a set of blocks. "If you want to get it to stand up straight you need to brace it better, love." He showed the girl how to set the walls and make a building, laughing with her as they worked.  
As she watched him play, a door opened and two men walked in, both blond and tall like Alistair. Brianna knew them immediately as Kings Maric and Cailan. "Ho brother!" Cailan called out, clapping Alistair on the back, "Enjoying some time with the children, I see." Both men laughed together.  
A young blond boy of about eight years approached them, "Uncle Cailan, would you help me build a kite?"  
"Of course I will. I was a great one for kites as a boy. Show me what you have and we’ll see what we can do," he replied, following the boy to the other side of the room.  
Maric looked at his sons and grandchildren proudly as he spoke to the blond girl, whom he called Goldanna. With a wave her hand, Goldanna made a table heavily laden with food appear in front of her. "Come everyone, let’s eat."  
Alistair stood up and turned to the table and his family. "Alistair?" Brianna asked.  
"Hmmm?" he replied as he sat down at the table with his father and brother.  
"Please Alistair, we must go. This isn’t real."  
"I know," he said, "I’ve known from the start.”  
"Then you know you can’t stay here."  
"I just want to enjoy it while I can. I’ll never have this."  
Brianna knelt down by him, looking up into his eyes, "How do you know?"  
Alistair eyes grew sad as he answered, "I’m not supposed to be happy. I’m Alistair."  
She had no answer for him. How do you tell a man he can be happy when he didn’t know how? "Alistair, come with me. We have work to do. They will wait for you."  
"Work. Yes, that is important." He stood up from the table and announced, "I’m sorry, but I have work to do. Please excuse me." Brianna took his hand and led him out the door where they found themselves in a hallway. He turned to her, "Wait for me," he told her as he shimmered and disappeared like Zevran and Wynne had. The large door beckoned and she pulled it open to meet the Sloth Demon and get out.

@@@@@

Brianna awoke on the cold stone floor next to Alistair, who stirred and coughed. She sat up slowly and looked at him, checking to see if he was all right. "I don’t know whether to thank you or not," he said.  
"I know," she replied, not knowing what else to say.  
Alistair’s hand rose slowly and caressed her face. She closed her eyes at the feeling of his skin against hers and sighed, and then the feeling was gone as his hand was removed. She opened her eyes and he smiled, stood up and put out his hand to help her. She took it and he pulled her up. "Seems we have some important work still to do. Shall we?"  
"Let’s," she answered, smiling back.  
They managed to make their way to the top floor when Wynne stopped them. "The Harrowing Chamber is just ahead. I was right; that’s where they are. We must be ready. Do you have the Litany?"  
"Yes. What does it do?" asked Brianna.  
"It prevents Uldred from seizing the minds of any who are within hearing. It’s unique among magic spells in that it can be performed by anyone, mage or no. Uldred will expect me to be the one to use it. That’s why I had the three of you memorize it too. Any of us can use it and he cannot stop us all."  
"Is everyone ready?" asked Alistair.  
Brianna checked her blades and bow, "Let’s go."  
They entered the entry hall and found a Templar. He was in a cage of light hat seemed to draw its power from him and sustain him at the same time. "Cullen?" asked Alistair.  
"Who is he?" asked Brianna.  
"His name is Cullen. I know him from Templar training at the abbey in Denerim. He was a few years ahead of me," answered Alistair. "Cullen? It’s Alistair from the abbey."  
"Alistair? You can’t be here. They’ve gone too deep to find you," Cullen said as he covered his eyes.  
"Too deep? What do you mean Cullen?"  
"Sifting through my thoughts, looking for anything that can turn me. I won't do it, you hear! I won't!" His hands came down and he looked back at them through his cage walls. "Why are you still here? That always works!"  
We are not demons, Cullen. Let us help you," said Wynne. She began to chant and he was bathed in a light blue light. "He's exhausted and nearly starved. “ To Cullen she said, "Rest, help is here."  
"No! You must get up there. The Harrowing Chamber! Kill them all and stop them!"  
"How many of them are there Cullen?" asked Alistair as he checked his weapon.  
“Uldred and perhaps four others," he answered weakly.  
"What about Irving?" asked Wynne.  
"He's there too. But he's been there too long, he had to have turned! Kill them all Alistair! Kill them for what they did!"  
"We will, Cullen. Rest and let us do our job." He turned to go up the stairs to the chamber above.  
"We must spare all we can, Alistair. There will be no help for Connor without them," Brianna whispered.  
"I know. Only kill the ones that have turned. Try to save as many as you can." He checked his sword again and looked down at Cullen as he lay on the cold stone floor, murmuring and praying. "Maker stay our hands," he said as he opened the door.

Redcliffe

Brianna sat with Alistair in the Arlessa's sitting room, trying to keep her mind busy while they waited. Both had offered their help with Connor's ritual but were thanked and shooed out of the room to find themselves here with nothing to do.  
Alistair had finally exclaimed, "Bloody flames!" and had stomped out of the room, only to return later with two glasses, a bottle of fine brandy and his journal. He poured two glasses of the brandy and handed one to her, "Might as well, we may be here awhile." He sat down at the Arlessa's secretary and opened his journal, took up the pen and began to write.  
The journal was the only piece of the Alistair puzzle that Brianna didn't understand. She'd learned on their journey that Alistair had a great love for books, especially history, novels and poetry. He was very well read and educated, which made him all the more difficult to understand given his excesses. She'd been too embarrassed to ask about the oil so that item had just sat in her head, waiting for its explanation. Along the way, she'd also learned of his love of fine brandy and cheese, the latter of which was bordering on an obsession.  
The spectacles she'd found were the strangest item. As far as she could tell, Alistair had no problems with his eyesight. Indeed, since her joining, she had noticed that her eyesight, hearing and sense of smell had become better, a fact that Alistair also attested too. Yet, at night by the fire, when he pulled out his pen and ink to write, the spectacles would be there too, perched on his nose as he concentrated.  
"Alistair? I have to ask, why do you wear those?" she had finally asked him one evening.  
He had laughed at her question and smiled, "I suppose it is rather strange at that. Before I became a Warden, I was having some trouble reading. The mage healer at the abbey said I was spending too much time trying to read in the dim light of my room so he prescribed these. They just magnify the page is all. That way my eyes don't work so hard in the dim light of the fire. Just because I'm a Warden, doesn't mean I don't get headaches." Brianna had nodded at the answer and complimented him on his ingenuity.  
Sitting in the room with him now though, she couldn't help but wonder at the reason for the journal. It was so out of character that she couldn't stop thinking about it as she watched him, so it shouldn't have come as such a surprise when he suddenly looked up at her and said, "What?"  
"Huh?" she answered, surprised.  
"You've been staring at me for a half hour now and I can almost hear you thinking. What's the matter?"  
"Oh. I'm sorry. It's just...well...I was curious as to why you keep a journal. It just doesn't seem like something that you would do, if you'll forgive the assumption."  
Alistair laughed at her then took a sip of the brandy. “No, I don’t suppose it is something that anyone would think I would do. I suppose it’s because what you see is not what you get with me.”  
“I think I figured that out pretty early in our acquaintance,” she said, smiling and sipping her glass. ”So why do you do it? My father kept one daily and he said it was only so he could keep track of what happened to him as reference for the future. He also saw it as a learning tool for Fergus and me when we took over leadership at Highever. We would know what was expected.”  
“I suppose there is that,” he replied. “Mostly, it helps me keep my sanity and get out the thoughts I need to express. I...have trouble with anger sometimes. My upbringing, I guess.”  
“What kind of thoughts?”  
“Oh, stuff that’s happened to me, what I think about things and people. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming that I feel like hitting something or someone. This keeps me from doing that. I started in the abbey when I was about fifteen. I used to get in trouble for fighting a lot and it was recommended to me by the Grand Cleric.”  
“The Grand Cleric? You must have been a lot of trouble to have ended up in her office.”  
“Not really. Since I was Maric’s son, she oversaw everything about me. I think that many of the other boys resented the fact that she spent so much time on me. None of them knew who I really was so they just thought I was sucking up. It made things harder for me in the end.” He took another sip of brandy and continued, “The last time I was there, she told me to control my temper or she would be forced to make a negative report to my father about my behavior. Then she handed me this book and told me to start writing all those feelings down to get them out. Best advice I ever got. I’ve done it ever since.”  
Brianna was amazed, “So you put everything down in there? Even stuff about the Wardens and your father?”  
“He’s in there, but I never mention him by name and keep any references to him as king to a minimum, to protect him and myself. There’s stuff in there about our companions, Duncan, even you.”  
“Me?”  
“Yes. You think I would leave you out?”  
“I guess I just never thought I was that important to you,” she replied.  
Alistair turned to her, his gaze steady and his eyes turning smoky, “You’re the most important person in my life, Brianna.”  
“How?” she asked.  
“Without you, I would have been dead a long time ago. You keep me going.”  
She shook her head. “I think you underestimate my importance, Alistair.”  
Alistair shut his journal and rose from his chair to stand before her. Reaching down, he pulled her out of her chair and put his hand on her cheek, caressing her face. “I think you underestimate yourself, Brianna.” He bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek, picked up his journal and left her standing.  
When Teagan appeared in the doorway to report that the ritual was successful and that Wynne and Connor were recovering in their rooms, Brianna hardly heard him. All she could think of was Alistair.

Denerim

“It’s always fun when you have unexpected guests,” joked Alistair as he cleaned his sword on a piece of cloth he’d found on the floor of Brother Genetivi’s house. “What now?”  
The brother’s “assistant,” Weylon, had turned out to be a mage in hiding and had turned on them when they had asked about the Brother’s whereabouts. A search of the house turned up documents on a mysterious cult of Andraste and an unknown village known as Haven.  
“Alistair? What do you think of this?” Wynne asked as she went through the documents. “It’s something about dragons.”  
“Dragons? I remember something about that in chantry school. What was it...?” He began to pace back and forth as he often did when he was deep in thought. “I remember! There was a prophet that predicted that Andraste would return in greater glory than she had lived. He thought she’d return as a dragon.”  
“A dragon! Surely that’s not true!” exclaimed Brianna as she looked at the document. “But it’s all right here, isn’t it.” She looked over at Alistair, “Where is this Haven?”  
“In the southern Frostback Mountains, according to this. It’s still winter up there. We’ll have to outfit ourselves well. Teagan should have what we need; his lands aren’t that far from where this place is supposed to be. He might have information we can use. Shall we stay the night and head back tomorrow?”  
Brianna agreed, “Sounds good. I know that Wynne had some things she wanted to get here and I could use some things myself. Where can we get rooms? My family’s estate is near but I don’t dare go near it. As far as inns, I only know the Gnawed Noble and I don’t think that will be safe for us either.”  
“I know just the place,” Alistair said. “Good food, good company and clean beds.” When Brianna looked at him sideways, he defended himself, “And I’ve never been there, I’ll have you know. The ones I’ve been to aren’t clean and have bad food. The company’s always good but they don’t rent rooms for the night.”  
“No comment,” Brianna replied as she led the way to the market to do their shopping. Alistair laughed as he followed her, knowing he’d gotten her goat again.  
Later, while Brianna was in her room cleaning her swords and oiling her leathers, there was a knock at her door. She drew the bolt and was surprised to find Alistair standing there. “Alistair? What is it?”  
“You owe me, Brianna,” he said seriously.  
“Owe you what?”  
“A favor. From the Circle Tower.”  
She vaguely remembered telling him that she would pay up too. “Yes. I owe you a favor. What do you want?”  
Alistair took a step forward, “Get dressed and I’ll be back in an hour. Wear a dress.”  
“I don’t have a dress.”  
He bent down and pulled up a package that had been sitting by the door and handed it to her. ”You do now and the bath is on its way. One hour.” He turned and walked down the hallway, leaving her standing in the doorway with her mouth hanging open.  
“Miss? Are you the one that needs a bath?” asked a young elven girl who had approached her from the other side.  
“Uhhh...yes. come in please.” The girl came through the door with two buckets of steaming water, followed by two other girls carrying buckets. They filled the bath and laid out the soap and towels while she undressed. One of the girls opened the package from Alistair and revealed a dark blue linen dress with a white chemise and stockings and a dark red belt. Brianna fingered the dress and saw it was as fine as those she had owned at Highever. “Lovely,” she said.  
“I’ll take this for a press and have it back in a few minutes miss. You just soak in there and I’ll be right back.”  
Brianna stepped into the hot water and sighed as she sat down. It felt so good to soak in the hot tub and she took full advantage of it, staying in until the water began to cool. Taking the soap, she was surprised to find it was scented with lavender and it smelled heavenly. She scrubbed everywhere she could reach and was soon feeling like a lady again. A knock at the door revealed the young elven maid with her dress, all pressed. “Let me help you, miss. Ser Alistair said I was to see you ready.”  
“Ser Alistair?’ asked Brianna. “So he ordered all this?”  
“Yes, miss. He even picked out the soap and the dress. He’s a good man, he is.”  
“Yes, he is,” Brianna agreed. She smiled and wondered how all this was going down in the journal tonight. “Let’s do this right,” she said to the girl as she sat down in a chair so the girl could comb out her hair. “A dark red ribbon, I think.” The girl smiled and nodded and took the brush to Brianna’s curls.” A good man indeed,” she thought.

@@@@@

Alistair paced back and forth in his room, waiting on Brianna. He’d knocked at the door after the hour was up only to be informed by the young elven maid he’d hired that she wasn’t quite ready and would he wait in his room. She was to meet him there.  
In his twenty two years, Alistair had known dozens of women of all sizes, shapes, ages, and races, but this was the first time he’d ever taken one out. His usual method was to take them in and not let them leave until morning. Very effective if the woman was interested in that sort of thing. Brianna wasn’t, yet.  
He asked around their companions and discovered some interesting facts about her. Her favorite color was red; she loved music and dancing and today was her nameday. Probably the most unusual thing about it all was that as far as anyone knew, she had forgotten what day it was. That was where Alistair came in. He and Leliana had shopped and found the soap, the dress and something special for her as a gift. All he needed was the courage to give it to her.  
A knock at the door disturbed his reverie and he opened it to find Brianna, wearing the dark blue dress with the red sash, a red ribbon threaded through her reddish brown hair. She was beautiful and he was speechless. “Brianna...you look...” he paused as he stared at her and she began to look worried,”...beautiful.”  
She smiled a warm smile, “Thank you Alistair. You look very handsome.” She pointed to his coat, “Are they new?” He was wearing a pair of dark brown doeskin breeks, a plain white shirt with a tied cravat and a dark blue coat nearly the same shade as her dress.  
He was still looking at her when he noticed she had asked him a question. “My...oh yes! I picked them up when I was out earlier.” He held out his hand, “Shall we?” Brianna took his hand as he led her out of the inn and into the market.  
“Where are we going?” she asked.  
“Dinner and dancing, unless there’s something else you’d like.”  
Brianna’s eyes lit up, “Where did you hear I like dancing?”  
“Leliana told me. I thought you’d enjoy doing something you like tonight.”  
“You asked about me?” She was flattered that he’d gone to so much trouble. It was so unexpected and uncharacteristic. “I don't know what to say.”  
“Just say yes and I promise you’ll have a good time.”  
“Yes,” she said and gave him her hand. He led her to a small tavern on the edge of the market district that was lit up and friendly. She followed him inside where they found a table towards the back of the room. Soon a young girl had brought them mugs of ale and bowls of warm stew and bread. Brianna took a bite of the stew and said, “Delicious!”  
“Best in the area,” he said as he dug into his bowl. “The Wardens liked to come here sometimes and it was my favorite place.” He stopped a moment and looked at her as she ate. “There’s another reason I brought you here tonight.”  
“What reason is that?” she asked.  
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box and slid it across the table towards her. “I had heard it was your nameday.”  
“My...Maker! It is! In all the excitement of the Blight and everything, I forgot.” She picked up the box and looked at it. “What is it?”  
“Open it.”  
Brianna pulled off the lid to the box and looked under the paper inside. She pulled out a lovely amulet in the shape of a rose made of polished silverite set with garnets. “Alistair! It’s beautiful! I don’t know what to say.”  
He took the necklace from her and put it around her neck so it hung down between her breasts. “I saw that and thought of you and that night in Lothering. I wondered how something so beautiful could exist amongst so much despair. Like a rose among its thorns.” He took her hand and recited, “Love, let me cull her choicest flowers; And pity me, and calm her eye; Make soft her heart, dissolve her lowers. Then will I praise thy deity. But if thou do not, Love, I'll truly serve her in spite of thee, and by firm faith deserve her.”*  
“That’s wonderful Alistair. Did you write that?” she asked him, amazed.  
“No. I read it but I always liked it so I memorized it. I never thought I’d find someone that it would fit.” He said with a husky voice, “It fits so well too.”  
“Flatterer. I love it though. It’s a wonderful nameday present and I’ll cherish it.”  
“I’m glad you like it, I was worried but Leliana said it was perfect for you.”  
“Did she choose the dress too?”  
“Nope. That was all me. I am familiar with how to dress a woman as well as undress her,” he said jokingly.  
Brianna laughed, “It seems you do both very well.”  
He leaned in and let his fingers stroke her cheek softly causing her to shiver and sigh. “Would you like to find out how well?” he asked softly. Brianna was spared the chance to answer as the musicians began to play a lively tune and threatened to drown her out. Alistair let her off the hook by taking her hand and pulling her up, “Dance with me.”  
He led her through dance after dance before they finally collapsed into their chairs breathless. Alistair ordered them two more ales that they drank quickly. “I could stay here all night but we have to leave for Redcliffe early in the morning. I’m sorry,” she said reluctantly.  
“You’re right as always. Let’s go.” He walked her back to the inn, never letting go of her hand. He walked her up to her room and stopped. “So, how was that for paying off a favor?”  
“I had such a good time. If all favors were this much fun to return, I’d do a lot more of them,” she replied.  
“Well, I’ll have to remember that, won’t I?” He took her hand and brought it up to his lips. “Good night, Brianna. Sleep well and happy nameday.”  
“Thank you, Alistair.” She turned to open the door to her room but all of a sudden turned back to him and pressed her lips to his, so quickly he hadn’t time to react. “Good night, Alistair.” She shut the door behind her and rested her head on it, her heart beating madly as she listened to him whistling happily as he walked back to his room.

* English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray. Vol. XL. The Harvard Classics. New York: P.F. Collier & Son, 1909–14; Bartleby.com, 2001. 

Redcliffe

Teagan and Isolde were pleased with the information that Brianna and her companions had discovered. Teagan was aware of the town called Haven as they had sworn fealty to him years before when he had taken the mantle as bann. A representative had arrived each year at the designated time to see that taxes were paid and contracts renewed for the coming year, but he heard nothing else from them the rest of the year. ”I have tried to pay them a visit when I was in the area once but was turned away. The guard said something about sickness and not wishing me to contract it. They saw me outfitted for the return journey and escorted down the mountain. It was most disturbing at the time.”  
“Sounds like a perfect time to pay a visit,” Alistair commented. “How are the passes now?”  
“Most are clear. There may be some trouble in the higher elevations so I would prepare well,” answered Teagan.  
Alistair looked down at Brianna, “We should start soon.”  
“Tomorrow then. We’ll take Morrigan, Leliana and Rufus with us. Make sure you have enough food, potions and poultices as well as warm clothes.” Morrigan and Leliana took off to see about the potions, poultices and food while Brianna saw to the clothing and tents. Alistair would go with Teagan to pay a visit to the village tavern and negotiate a deal with Lloyd to supply the castle with ale since their brewmaster had died. Lloyd wouldn’t talk to Teagan so Alistair had volunteered.  
Alistair turned to Brianna, “You should know that a trip with Teagan to the tavern will probably last all night. He has a girl there and I’m sure I won’t be able to persuade him to leave until closing time.”  
Brianna laughed, “From what I hear, he has more than one tavern and more than one girl. I’ll have to tell you the stories I know about him sometime.”  
“I look forward to it,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it, “I’ll try to be back soon, if not, I’ll see you at breakfast.” She nodded and he left with Teagan, turning to look back at her as he walked away. Brianna reached up, fingered her amulet and sighed then took off to find Bodahn.  
Alistair had been nothing but attentive and kind since their night at the tavern. He’d spent hours talking to her about history, poetry and anything else that came up, entertaining her with many stories. He was hesitant to speak of his life before the Wardens, so she didn’t pry. She knew it had been very hard and he would tell her when he was ready. For now he was more content to find out about her and she was happy to comply.  
Brianna wasn’t surprised when he didn't return for dinner that night. “They will be there all night, my dear,” explained Arlessa Isolde. “I’d wait to see him in the morning.” She thanked the Arlessa and retired for the night, falling asleep quickly.  
In the morning, Brianna headed down to breakfast and noticed that Alistair was still missing. "It is as I thought, they didn't return to the castle last night," said the Arlessa as she sipped her tea.  
Concerned that something had happened to him, Brianna went down to the village tavern to check. Lloyd laughed when she asked about him, saying, "Oh, he and the Bann had a fine time like they always do. I put him in a room upstairs, last door on the left." He laughed again and went back to tending bar.  
Brianna looked around the room, and when she didn’t see him, went upstairs to look. She had gone only a few feet down the hall when the last door on the left opened and she saw him standing in the doorway to the room, wearing nothing but his breeks. A young blond girl walked out of the room in front of him, her hair disheveled and her gown mussed. He bent down and kissed her cheek, then handed her a purse full of coins. “Thanks, love,” he told her.  
“Thank you, ser,” the girl replied. She passed by Brianna and nodded to her as she tied up her dress in the front. Brianna stood still for a moment, watching him with a hurt look as he stood there trying to find the words to speak to her. She turned on her heel and ran, giving him no chance to talk. “Brianna!” he called after her.  
Alistair's fist hit the wall as he cursed himself for a fool. Looking down the hall towards the stairway, he spied a shiny object laying the floor. He walked over and picked it up, his heart wrenching as he saw the rose amulet, its chain broken from where Brianna had torn it off her neck. He closed his eyes and let the pain take him.

@@@@@

Alistair had sought out Zevran, who had tracked her to an isolated barn on the outskirts of the village and found her hiding in the loft, crying. Zevran had held her and told her that Alistair was, “…not good enough to lick your boots, amour. I will see to you now.” When she had finally stopped crying, he had left and returned with some food and wine and they had shared it while they talked of pleasant things. Then he had left her with a promise to return to fetch her before dark. “Sit and think, mi amour. You have much to ponder.”  
Zevran had returned to Alistair and told him, “She does not wish to be found right now and I will not go against her wishes. Leave her alone and she will return.” Alistair had retreated into his room and his journal, not emerging for several hours. When he did, he was fully armed and armored and spent the rest of the day in the lists, sparring and practicing his Templar talents, eventually collapsing from exhaustion. Wynne had been called and after healing, he returned to his rooms where he remained alone.  
Brianna had appeared soon after dark, tired and led by Zevran, who had retrieved her from her hiding place. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying but she was in control. Zevran took her upstairs and called for a bath, leaving her in the hands of the servants with Leliana to supervise. She did not emerge for the rest of the night.  
Zevran took matters into his own hands and raided the larder and wine cellar, returning with two bottles of good Antivan red wine and a large platter of cheese and sweets. Knocking on Alistair’s door, he was answered with a less than cheerful. “Go away!”  
“It is I, my friend. Let me in,” he told him. He heard the bolt being thrown violently back and then the door was yanked open, “What do you want? Here to tell me what a fool I am too?” Alistair said angrily.  
Zevran didn’t miss a beat, “I would not presume tell you anything that you already know, my friend. I merely brought you some food and wine to help you get through this terrible time.”  
Alistair looked at the plate of food and suddenly became very hungry, “Fine, come in.” He stepped aside to let the elf through, shutting the door and bolting it behind him. Three hours later, Zevran emerged, smiling and flushed, with two empty wine bottles and an empty platter.  
Early the next morning, Brianna, Morrigan, Leliana and Zevran met in the bailey with full packs, ready to leave for the mountains to find the village of Haven. Brianna had told the group they would be leaving the next day, replacing Alistair with Zevran. “I do not need to explain my command decisions in this matter. He will be staying here and Zevran will go in his place,” she had told them when they asked where Alistair was. No one questioned her.  
As they left, Brianna looked up at the castle’s steps and saw Alistair standing in full kit, watching them leave, his face impassive. She turned away and walked out the gate. 

The Road to Haven

They made good time as Brianna wasn’t willing to stop and rest often and the paths were clear. Zevran found a campsite near a mountain stream, sheltered from the elements. Darkness was falling so they set up camp quickly. Brianna collected wood and started a fire before going to the stream for water several times to insure they had plenty.  
“Where is she?” they heard as an angry Alistair strode into the camp, Rufus at his heel.  
“Alistair? Where did you come from?” asked a surprised Leliana.  
“Never mind that. Where is she?”  
Zevran answered, “She has gone to the stream for water, amigo. She will return shortly.”  
“Show me,” he said curtly. Zevran shrugged and pointed him in the direction she had gone. He dropped his pack and helmet and headed to find her.  
He found her sitting by the stream, washing her face. She had been crying, he could tell, as she tried to wash the vestiges of tears from her face. He stopped for a moment and looked at her, trying to fathom what he had done. He had thrown away the only good thing in his life and he had to get it back.  
“Brianna,” he said softly.  
“What do you want Alistair? I left you in Redcliffe,” she replied angrily.  
“Why?”  
She stood up and faced him. “I have no use for selfish men. They are neither trustworthy nor dependable.”  
Alistair’s face stung as if he’d been slapped; he knew he deserved that and more. The irony was that Duncan had said almost the exact thing to him at Ostagar. “I see. So the fact that I am Warden has no bearing? This is a task we both have a stake in, me more than you, and yet you would see me left out of it. This cannot be just about us and you know that.”  
“What would you have me do, Alistair? You spend all that time and effort courting me only to take another woman to your bed and then pay her when you’re done! How am I supposed to work with you when I cannot trust anything you say or do!”  
“I have never lied to you, Brianna. Everything I ever told you since we met has been the truth. I am a fool and I am totally aware of it. I am asking you to let me come back as a warrior and a Warden. I will not ask for your forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. There will be nothing else unless you ask.” He put out his hands in a gesture of surrender, “Please, Brianna. All I want is a chance.”  
Brianna looked at the man she had so hoped was the one she would be able to depend on and love. He had hurt her deeply and she would not let it happen again. But he was right; he was a Warden and a damn good one. She needed him as much or more than he needed her. “All right. You’re in. We leave at first light.” She left him standing by the stream, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes before they went dark again.

@@@@@

With Alistair’s sudden appearance at camp, the next morning, Zevran decided to head back to Redcliffe. “I know you would miss me so, my dears, but there are other things I would do and going on holy pilgrimages is not high on the list. You understand.” With that he had kissed Brianna and Leliana goodbye, shook Alistair’s hand, patted Rufus and waved at Morrigan as he left to return to Redcliffe.  
They spent the next week winding their way through the mountain passes, trying to find one that was clear enough to get through. Each night they camped wherever they could find a sheltered place out of the elements to set up their tents.  
Brianna had to admit that while she was still angry at Alistair, having him along had been more of a boon than she had thought. He was knowledgeable about the area and knew many tricks for staying warm. “Comes from all those days spent sleeping in the hayloft in the stable.” He was quieter than he had been before; as if he was trying to work things out in his head. He would speak when spoken to but rarely added his thoughts to a conversation, spending his time watching the fire or Brianna when she wasn’t looking.  
One night, the wind blew hard as they climbed and the night became colder so they were forced to double and triple up in the tents to keep warm. Morrigan took a tent with Leliana and Alistair was forced to share with Brianna and Rufus. When she began to complain, Alistair had said, “We shared a tent on the road from Ostagar to Redcliffe and a bed at Flemeth’s. I think we can stay together one night.”  
“You’re just loving this aren’t you.” she accused.  
“Every bit,” he countered.  
“That’s why Rufus sleeps between us.”  
“You’re mean.”  
“Seems I have good reason to be.”  
“I’ll get even, you know.”  
“I look forward to it.”  
Without another word, Brianna spread out her blankets and furs and snuggled in for the night. Rufus took his cue and laid down next her, leaving room for Alistair to spread his bed on the dog’s other side. He lay down and covered himself, moving as close to Rufus as he could, all the while mumbling about womanizing uncles and too much whiskey.  
The nightmare hit Brianna hard that night as she slept on the cold ground. She had never been able to completely block them and Alistair heard her cry out and jumped up. Rufus was gone and she lay alone, wrapped in her blankets, thrashing back and forth, screaming Alistair’s name. He shook her hard, “Brianna! Wake up love! Brianna!” She woke suddenly, her eyes wide with fear. He smoothed her hair away from her face asking softly, “What is it?”  
Brianna threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her close, softly stroking her hair as she cried. “Don’t leave me!” she pleaded.  
“I won’t. Maker, I won’t!” he said desperately as he drew her in, holding her tightly as she held onto him. When she had relaxed into sleep, he drew her down to the pallet, holding her close until he fell asleep too.

@@@@@

Alistair woke in the early morning light alone except for Rufus, who had returned sometime in the night. Sitting up, he looked down at the dog and smiled. “Well done last night pal,” he said, patting the dog on the head. “There a huge bone in it for you.” Rufus wagged his tail and panted, pleased with his new found status. Alistair pulled on his boots and grabbed his coat and gloves, foregoing the armor for the time being.  
Ducking out of the tent, he found Brianna hunched by the fire, trying to cook breakfast. He walked over to sit beside her, “So....does this mean we’ve made up?”  
“I don’t know, Alistair,” she answered. “You hurt me. Why did you go to all that trouble with me and then throw it away?”  
“It was never my intention to throw anything away, Brianna. I screwed up. I’m really good at that, if you haven’t noticed. My personal life reads like a bad novel; all pleasure with no commitment or feelings.”  
“Why do you live that way? I mean, if you know that it’s not the way you want it to be, why do it?”  
“Habit, I guess. Teagan and I always whoop it up good when we go to the tavern. When the night was over, I just figured that I’d make sure he was nice and safe in bed with Bella and I would head back to the castle and my nice warm bed.”  
“But you didn’t,” she added.  
“No, it seems I didn’t. I was so drunk I couldn’t walk straight so Lloyd put me in one of the rooms to sleep it off. Sometime in the middle of the night someone crawled into bed with me and I slipped into old habits. I was so drunk I couldn’t say no. In the morning when I saw that I wasn’t alone, I had to do something, so I paid her. Turns out Teagan had sent her to me. He didn't know about you.”  
“Did you tell him?”  
“Right after I punched him in the mouth. He’s pretty upset about it all. He likes you very much.” He reached over and took her hand, “I’m so sorry Brianna. I never wanted to hurt you and it tears me up that I did. I’ll understand if you don’t want me around but I can’t leave you outright. Not with all that we have to do.”  
Brianna looked down at the hand that held hers. It was warm and strong and she wanted to hold it forever but she couldn’t let herself be led down the same path. She pulled her hand away as Alistair’s face fell. “I don’t want you to leave, Alistair. But we can’t....I don’t want to hurt and I can’t believe it won’t happen again.”  
“All right. I guess I’ll have to convince you some other way,” he said. “Starting now.” He rose and went back to the tent to ready himself for his new life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story contains possible trigger scenes for sexual abuse. Read with care.

Haven

“What is it with religious zealots? You’d think they’d be happy to spread their religion to the unbelieving masses,” commented Brianna as she knocked an arrow for another shot.  
“Maybe they are an exclusive religion. Status and all that,” said Alistair as he bashed another of the cult’s followers to the ground and dispatched him with a quick slice to the neck.  
Leliana and Brianna had managed to sneak into a small house on the edge of the village where they had discovered an altar that Morrigan was certain was covered in human blood. “Wonderful,” exclaimed Alistair. “Now we’ll be in for it.”  
He wasn’t far off as they were attacked as soon as they left the cottage. The townspeople were poorly armed and untrained as warriors but they made up for it with boldness. They slowly made their way through the town, stopping at the town store where they found a grisly secret in the back room.  
“Alex,” Alistair said as he examined the body. He turned it over and nearly retched as he saw what had been done to the man. Leliana ran out the door to throw up and Brianna turned away, breathing through her mouth to avoid the stench and to keep from throwing up herself. The man’s chest was open and his organs had been pulled out, leaving only a cavity. The worst part was the man’s face; he’d been gagged and the mutilation had obviously occurred while he was alive. “Maker keep you friend. Find peace,” said Alistair. He stood and pulled some canvas off a nearby shelf and covered the body.  
Alistair turned to Brianna, who stood there with her eyes closed, her body shaking. He put his arm around her and walked her back out to the front of the building where Morrigan was keeping watch. “Morrigan, there is a body back there, a friend of mine. Would you take care of it, please?”  
Morrigan looked at Alistair and then Brianna and nodded. She left them alone to see to Alex’s body. “Brianna?” he asked.  
“He...he looks like Fergus,” she said. “That could be what happened to him.” Her whole body shook with unshed tears.  
Alistair put his arm around her and pulled her close. “It’s not Fergus. Fergus is safe; I’ll find him for you. I promise.”  
Brianna looked up at Alistair and saw the conviction in his eyes. “You knew him?”  
“His name was Alex Demarrin. He was a knight in service to Arl Eamon. We…grew up together. His mother was one of the cooks at the castle and his father was a man at arms. He was a good man, married with a daughter.”  
“I’m sorry about your friend, Alistair,” She took his hand in hers.  
“I swear I will find your brother, Brianna. I won’t stop until I do,” he told her.  
She thought about what he had told her that morning in camp after she had had the nightmare. He said he had never lied to her and she knew he hadn’t. “I believe you,” she said and Alistair smiled. It was a step.

@@@@@

“Hello pup.”  
“Father? But…you can’t be here.”  
The shade of Bryce Cousland shimmered a bit then became solid again. “I am gone, pup, and there is no prayer or magic that can bring me back. But you must not grieve, Brianna. Let the pain and the guilt go. It’s time.”  
“What do I do, Father?”  
“You are destined for great things, my girl. Know that I love you and no father could be prouder. Take this. It will help you on your way. Stay with him. He will protect you.”  
“Who will protect me, Father?”  
“Be prepared, pup. You both have a long road ahead of you. Remember that your mother and I are with you always.”  
The shade shimmered slowly into nothingness until there were only the cold stone walls of the temple. “Father!” Brianna called as she pounded against the wall. “Please Father! Come back! I need you!” When there was no answer, she sank to the ground looking at the amulet her father had given her.  
“Brianna?” Alistair’s voice was calming as it came out of the mist that was her life at the moment. “Come; we need to go.” She felt his hands as he picked her up and when she looked up at him, she saw that something in him had changed too. His fingers brushed away the hair from her face and he kissed her forehead. “Ready?” She nodded and followed him.  
When Brianna crossed the bridge over the chasm she followed the hallway down to a large doorway. She scouted the room beyond, discovering a small altar and a large platform and stairs leading up to a raised dais on which stood a statue of Andraste. Alistair and the others had joined her at the door so she took her first steps into the room. When she approached the altar, a huge wall of flame erupted in front of her, blasting at her where she stood. Alistair quickly grabbed her and pulled her back against him, sheltering her with his arms. Leliana and Morrigan had jumped back to avoid the inferno and were coughing from the smell and heat.  
“What the…?” Brianna exclaimed.  
Alistair turned her around to face him, checking her for burns. “Are you all right?” he asked her worriedly.  
“I think so. What was that?”  
“It seems that puzzles, fights and visits from the beyond are not enough to satisfy the makers of this gauntlet,” commented a disgusted Morrigan. “They wish us to burn to death as well.”  
Brianna looked up at Alistair, “What now?”  
He turned to Leliana, “What does the inscription on that altar say?”  
“It says: Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the Goodness of Spirit. King and Slave, Lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker's sight," she read. “What does it mean?”  
Alistair thought for a moment, “The Canticle of Transfigurations!”  
“What about it?” asked Brianna.  
“At the abbey, we were all forced to memorize the whole Chant of Light. Took me weeks to do it and then I had to stand up in front of a dozen sisters and priests a recite it perfectly. Ugh!”  
“Charming. What other exciting stories of your time in the abbey will we be regaled with next?” complained Morrigan.  
Alistair ignored her, “That section is about what we have to do to get to the Maker’s side in death, right?”  
“Yes, so what does that have to do with this?” asked Brianna.  
He looked down at her, “Silly girl, you didn’t pay much attention to the sisters at chantry school, did you? It tells us to treat others well and live our lives productively. But it also tells us how; we must cast off our worldly goods and lives before we can go to his side.”  
Brianna’s eyes grew wide, “You mean we have to….? Oh no! I’m all for living a clean life and taking care of the less fortunate but that? No!”  
Leliana smiled, “Would it help to know that we all have to do it?”  
“You mean you want us to strip ourselves naked to walk up a flight of stairs for some ashes?” demanded Morrigan. “I find that a bit excessive, don’t you?”  
Brianna looked up at Alistair, “Is that really what all this means?”  
“I’m sorry, but yes,” he answered, smiling as he removed his sword and shield and set them down. “We have to strip. Help me out here, will you?”  
She undid the buckles of his breastplate and greaves then began to remove her own boots and armor, conscious of Alistair's eyes on her the whole time. “Stop that! Isn’t this embarrassing enough as it is?”  
“What, I can’t enjoy the view?” he asked mischievously as he pulled off his shirt.  
Brianna caught her breath as she saw him shirtless and instantly looked down, breathing slowly to still her excitement at seeing him undress in front of her. “I….I think I’d better turn around now,” she said quickly and did just that as she pulled off her padded undershirt and tunic, breeches and socks. Alistair laughed at her embarrassment but said no more as he finished undressing.  
Morrigan huffed in disgust but removed her clothes as well, revealing a well formed and attractive body that raised Leliana’s eyebrows when she beheld it. “Thank you,” Morrigan said to her.  
“You’re welcome,” the bard replied, smiling as she undressed.  
Brianna made it all the way down to her smallclothes and stopped. “All the way?” she asked nervously.  
“Brianna, you travel in a group with six other men and women who eat, sleep and do everything together. We’ve all seen you without your clothes. This is no different,” Alistair explained as he removed his smallclothes and stood before them all completely nude.  
“But not naked!”  
“How do you know? Hmmm?”  
Her eyes grew wide and she turned around quickly to face him, “You haven’t….” When she looked at his face she became angry, “Why you rat!”  
Alistair laughed hard at her anger, “I never promised to be a total monk about our traveling arrangements and you know it. But I do have the satisfaction of knowing I did accomplish one thing in all this today.”  
“What’s that?” she asked as she removed her smallclothes slowly and reluctantly.  
“I made you look.”  
Brianna couldn’t have turned a brighter shade of red as she did look at him. He was magnificent in his appearance, all male and sculpted like a statue of an ancient god. “I…I…oh shit!” she exclaimed helplessly and turned around so fast she nearly fell over. Alistair laughed at her predicament and even Morrigan giggled a little.  
Finally Leliana came over and put her arm around her, whispering, “Alistair will just have to watch. It is empowering, no? To be free of it all?”  
“I suppose. I just wish it was anything else. My situation with him is precarious enough, Leli,” she whispered back.  
“Well, he is magnificent, no?”  
“He is,” she replied, giggling a little.  
“Then let him think what he wants and we will think what we want. Then we won’t tell him.” Leliana laughed and Brianna laughed with her. “Come my friend, let’s get what we came for.” Brianna followed her as she led the way through the fires and up the steps.

The Road to Redcliffe

They had left the village of Haven behind, vowing to report what they had seen in the village and the temple beyond to the Teagan and the Chantry. “They will clean them out and then Teagan can salvage what he can from the lands,” Alistair said. Even Morrigan had to agree that much of what had been done was unnecessary and accomplished nothing but chaos.  
Not wanting to stay anywhere near the village, they had set out for Redcliffe as soon as they could, getting as far away as possible before making camp in a sheltered area near a stream.  
Brianna was restless after supper as the cold began to sink into the area from the mountains above them. She walked through the trees to the stream beyond in hopes that she might find some solace to calm the feelings in her heart and mind; mostly the feelings she had for Alistair.  
He had changed since the incident at the tavern in Redcliffe. He spent more time writing in his journal which told her that he was working something out in his head. He was still quiet but had begun to add to discussions more. With the exception of his teasing at the temple of Andraste, he still rarely smiled. Often he would disappear for an hour or two without explanation of where or why he had left.  
“I think he has stopped drinking, Bree,” Leliana told her. “I have not seen him take so much as a sip of ale since we left Redcliffe. And it is not because there isn’t any. We have wine and ale both with us. When he takes off, he is going out to meditate and pray.”  
“Why now?” she asked her.  
“Perhaps he has decided to change. The boy becomes a man now. He is different.”  
“I worry that he might be too different, Leli. What if it’s a bad change?” Leliana had had no reply for her.  
She sat down on a log near the stream and looked up at the mountains, turning purple in the fading light of the day. Sighing, she fingered the amulet her father gave her and thought of him, her mother and family. Looking down at her left hand, she saw Rory’s ring, its ruby glowing in the half light. She felt guilty as she realized she hadn’t thought of him for so long. She wondered what he was doing now at the Maker’s side, waiting for her to join him.  
“He must have been a great man to have won you,” said a voice behind her.  
Brianna turned and saw Alistair standing in the shadows, watching her. “He was,” she said.  
“Tell me about him,” he asked, sitting down next to her.  
She began slowly, “His name was Ser Roland Gilmore but everyone called him Rory. His father, Bann Marcus, has lands in the eastern Bannorn. He swore fealty to my father in return for protection for his lands. Bann Marcus didn’t trust the Arl of Denerim to keep his promises so he chose my father instead.  
“That must have gone over well.”  
She smiled, “So I heard. It happened before I was born though. As part of the agreement, Bann Marcus was allowed to send one boy or girl to Highever each year to be schooled and trained for knighthood. When I was six, he sent his son.” She stopped a minute, thinking back. “Rory was the same age as Fergus and they tormented me to no end; not that I probably didn’t deserve it though.”  
“You? Never.” He smiled.  
“Good one. When Fergus married Oriana, things changed for him. He received his knighthood and began to train knights himself. When Father released him from his service, he chose to stay. I didn’t know why at the time but it was because of me.”  
“He loved you?” Alistair asked softly.  
“I think so. It took him four years to get up the courage to say anything. When he did, it only took a couple of weeks to win me. He was pretty irresistible at the time.”  
“When did he give you that?” he asked as he pointed to her ring.  
“The day before Howe attacked, we were sparring in the lists when he knocked me down for the umpteenth time and just asked, ‘Will you marry me?’ He told me he wanted to be sure he had my attention.” They both laughed and she continued, “Father and Mother had wanted me to make a profitable marriage but after refusing three men, they decided that I should make my own way and they would make the best of it. So when Rory asked for my hand, Father said yes.”  
“You shot down three suitors?”  
“Oh yes. One of them was a Rivaini prince. He was so girly; I knocked him down while sparring once and he cried! It was so funny! I didn’t have a good reputation as a possible marriage match after that one.”  
Alistair laughed, “I’ll bet.” He paused a moment then asked, “So he was your first love?”  
“Yes. I’m a little picky about that sort of thing, despite my reputation and my training.”  
“I happen to like your pickiness and I don’t care about your reputation.”  
“And the training?”  
“Well, combat does suit you. The other…well, I’ll just reserve judgment there for now. But I do know one thing.”  
“What’s that?”  
“Rory was a very lucky man.” He stood up and bent down to boldly kiss her cheek. “Good night, Brianna.” Alistair turned and left her sitting by the stream.

Redcliffe

Alistair began to come out of his shell after his talk with Brianna by the stream. They hurried back to Redcliffe as fast as they could and were met by Teagan in the hall as they arrived just after midday. Alistair presented him with a small pouch that Teagan was at first afraid to take. He quickly handed it off to one of the mage healers that had been looking after Eamon since the beginning. “Your rooms have been kept for you when you returned. I’ll send someone to tell you when all is ready.”  
Brianna retired to her room and ordered a bath, taking her time to soak and scrub off the grime of days of travel. The events in Haven and Andraste’s temple were still on her mind, as was Alistair’s change of heart and habits.  
A knock at the door telling her that she was needed in the Arl’s quarters brought her back to the present and she slipped from the tub quickly, drying off and dressing in a soft red tunic and brown breeks that one of the maids had laid out for her. “From the Arlessa, miss. She wanted you to be comfortable while you were here.” She hung the amulet from her father’s shade on the outside of the tunic along with her Warden’s Oath pendant. She opened the door to leave and spied Alistair talking to one of the maids at his door. She slipped the door to her room closed to a crack and listened.  
”I have to admit the offer is very tempting, love, but you understand. It’s been a long journey and I am tired. Thanks all the same, though,” he told the girl, who curtsied and thanked him. He handed her a silver for her trouble and she took off in the opposite direction from Brianna’s door. Alistair walked on down the hallway towards the family quarters.  
Brianna waited until he was out of sight before exiting her own room. She hurried down the hallway to the Arl’s quarters and quietly entered the bedchamber, standing by the back wall as the mages began a ritual to heal the Arl using the ashes. She was so engrossed in the ceremony that she jumped when she heard Alistair’s voice, “Ears burning, Brianna?”  
“What do you mean?” she retorted nervously.  
“Apparently so,” he replied, chuckling to himself. When Brianna didn’t bite, he leaned into to her and whispered, “Meet me in the garden when this is over. I need to talk to you. Please.” He nearly pleaded, so she nodded.  
It was over quickly and Eamon was healed and listening to a report of all that had happened while he had been ill. Brianna turned and saw that Alistair had gone so she snuck out the door and headed down the stairs to the garden. Opening the door, she saw him sitting on a bench in a secluded corner so she joined him.  
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come. I…I wanted to tell you something and I knew you wouldn’t talk to me anywhere unless it was a little public. Not that I blame you there,” he told her. He was nervous as he spoke and his face was pale.  
“I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression about us,” she countered.  
“I think it’s too late for that but I’ll respect your wishes.” He paused, gathering his words. “I just wanted to tell you thank you. You saved the Arl and his family even though it would have been easier not to. There’s nothing I could say that would thank you enough.”  
“They are your family in a way, you know. I understand that. It was my pleasure.”  
“I just had to say that.” His hands were shaking so Brianna reached down and took them in her own.  
“Alistair, what’s the matter? You don’t look well.”  
He hesitated, “I…I quit drinking. Seems I’m feeling the effects a little.”  
Brianna put her hand on his forehead and found he his skin was cold to the touch. “You’re cold. How long have you felt like this?”  
“Since a couple of days after that night at the tavern,” He stood up to walk and she caught him when he stumbled. “Nearly two weeks.”  
A quick check of his pulse revealed his heart was racing, “Alistair, you’re sick. Come with me, please.” She put his arm around her shoulders and began to lead him back into the house.  
He nodded and followed her into the house, collapsing on the threshold as the shakes took him. “Stay with me,” he begged her before everything went dark.

@@@@@

Alistair was taken to his bedchamber and tended to by Wynne and Eamon’s mage healers. She turned to Brianna, “How long since he last took a drink?”  
“It was that night he and Teagan went to the tavern in town, I think. Over two weeks ago. He said he’d been so drunk that he hardly remembered. Is he truly that bad?”  
“No, I’ve seen much worse. Alistair doesn’t drink all the time but when he does, it’s always to excess, hence the symptoms. He’s bleeding into his stomach so the blood loss makes him very tired and weak, coupled with the fact that he is a Grey Warden and they don’t respond like anyone else to magical healing. I think rest would do him much good and Ballard will make him up a potion that should relieve the symptoms and allow him time to recover. “I’ll have the cook send him up some good beef broth to fortify him. Whatever made him decide to quit drinking now?”  
Brianna looked down at Alistair as he lay sleeping in the bed. “I think he’s trying to prove something; mostly to himself.”  
“Let’s hope it worked,” Wynne replied.  
“I’ll stay with him, if it’s all right.”  
“I see no harm. I warn you, the nightmares will be much worse than usual, so be prepared.” She left her alone with him then.  
Brianna spent the evening with him, bathing his face with cool water to keep him cool as he slept. A servant brought some food for her and broth for Alistair. She managed to get most of the broth in him before he fell back asleep. She ate some of her own before she became restless.  
Walking around the room, she discovered that it wasn’t just a guest room; it was actually Alistair’s room. She hadn’t realized that he had quarters at the castle since he had left for the abbey twelve years before. There were toy soldiers, a small bow and a small sized wooden sword and shield in one corner; all of them looking well used. She smiled when she noticed all the drawings and paintings on the wall near a small desk. One of the pictures was of a knight in a silver suit of armor holding a sword and shield. Looking closer, she was amazed when she saw the knight was sporting the emblem of the Grey Wardens on his shield. In the lower right corner she spied the artist’s name, “Alistair.” She turned to the sleeping man in the bed and smiled. “Even then,” she said quietly, smiling. On the desk was his journal and while she was tempted to read it, she left it alone, remembering her father’s.  
Perusing the bookshelves, she found many books on history and a few novels and books on poetry. She pulled one of the books of poetry and went back to the chair by the bed to sit with him, lighting a candle to see with. Brianna removed her boots to get comfortable and set herself to read while she waited for him to wake.  
The nightmare hit him hard and she was jerked awake in the chair where she had dozed off. “Brianna! Maker no!” he screamed.  
She was with him in an instant, climbing on the bed and shaking him, “Alistair! I’m here. Wake up, please!”  
“Brianna!” he cried out, sitting up quickly and opening his eyes. They were wild and unfocused.  
Brianna scooted closer to him and put her hands on his cheeks, looking into his eyes. “Alistair, I’m here. It’s Brianna.”  
Alistair’s eyes began to focus as he slowly came back from the Fade. “Brianna…” he whispered. “You’re…here.”  
“Of course I am. You asked me to stay with you, remember?”  
He pulled her close, holding her tightly as he whispered, “I…I thought you were gone. I couldn’t bear it if you left too.”  
“I won’t leave you, Alistair. I promise I won’t. Lie back down and rest. I’ll be here.” He lay back down and she lay down next to him, her arm across his chest and her head on his shoulder. “Better?”  
“Yes,” he said. “They’ll really talk now, you know.”  
“I don’t care and neither do you. Go to sleep. We’ll worry about all that in the morning.”  
“You are way too practical and I’m too tired to even joke about it.”  
She giggled, “Good.” He closed his eyes and was asleep almost instantly, his hand holding hers. She closed her eyes and drifted off again.

@@@@@

Alistair woke in the early morning as was his wont, trying to remember what had happened. He could remember Eamon’s healing, talking with Brianna in the garden and then it went dark. He turned in the bed and heard a sigh and looked down to see Brianna sleeping soundly, snuggled up against him. Her hands were cold and she had drawn herself into a ball, trying to keep warm. He peeked down to see if he was clothed and finding himself in his smallclothes, he loosened the blanket and covered her, pulling her into his arms. She sighed again and snuggled into him, uncurling herself and relaxing. He smiled and closed his eyes, sleep reclaiming him.  
Brianna woke to a sun full up. She took a moment to get her bearings, remembering she was in Alistair’s room. Looking down, she discovered she was wrapped in blankets and the man in question was looking down at her. “Good morning,” he said sweetly.  
She jumped up and out of the bed, embarrassed. “Alistair, I…Oh crap!” she said as he began to laugh. She looked down at herself to find she was fully clothed, even though the man she had shared a bed with all night was not. “I’m so sorry.”  
Alistair laughed harder then winced with pain, “Relax Brianna. I woke up early this morning and you were lying on the bed, shivering. I covered you up and snuggled with you to keep myself and you warm. Nothing else happened, I’m sorry to say.”  
“Oh, then I guess that’s all right.”  
“You sound disappointed.”  
“Disappointed? No, it’s just…I don’t know! Will you stop that!”  
He laughed again. “Okay. Do you mind if I get out of bed now? I’m not dressed and I’ll need the chamber pot soon.”  
“The chamber….oh! I’ll go get Wynne and Ballard.” She pulled on her boots and took off quickly to fetch the mages.  
Wynne and Ballard returned with Brianna a half hour later to find their charge up and dressed, sitting at the desk, writing. “What are you doing out of bed young man?” demanded Wynne.  
“I’m fine, thank you very much,” he replied, a little perturbed.  
Ballard chanted a phrase and blue energy bathed Alistair as he sat. A minute later, he announced, “He seems to be much better today. There are still signs of the illness and blood loss but I believe he can return to his normal duties if he takes it easy.”  
“Hear that? I’m better, Wynne. Now go away so I can get back to work, please.”  
Wynne looked at Brianna, “He’s all yours now.” She leaned in and whispered, “I’ll check on you both later.” Brianna nodded.  
“I heard that,” Alistair said, not looking up from his writing.  
“Nothing wrong with his hearing,” Wynne said as she and Ballard exited the room, Ballard laughing.  
Brianna stood in the center of the room where she had watched the visit, contemplating her next move. Finally, she made it, “Why Alistair?”  
He sighed and put down his pen, “I can’t live that way anymore. Not now.”  
“What changed?”  
“I met you. There’s no way I can live that life and be with you so I won’t live it. I just didn’t know how bad I’d become. I’m sorry for that.”  
Brianna was stunned, “You stopped drinking and everything else for me?”  
He turned around and rose from his chair, coming to stand in front of her. “I’d walk through the fires of the Black City for you, Brianna.”  
“Oh Alistair!” She threw her arms around him and hugged him close. “Thank you!”  
He gathered her in, his arms coming around her. “I have a long way to go, but I’ll never forget you were here for me.”  
“I’ll always be here for you,” she whispered as they held each other tightly.

@@@@@

Alistair stayed close to his room for the next few days, reading, writing and sleeping. Once a day he would venture out to the lists to sit and watch the soldiers and knights as they practiced and prepared for the war to come. He would get a far off look in his eyes as he watched them, and Brianna often wondered what he was thinking about. She left him be then as she knew he could only succeed on his own but she was always nearby where he could call for her. Her constant presence in Alistair’s life prompted Wynne to express concern about her spending so much time with him.  
“Many will get the wrong idea about the two of you. Are you certain that is what you wish?” she had asked.  
“He asked me to stay with him and I promised I would. He finds it comforting to know I’m there,” she had answered.  
“I suppose there is that. It’s not like the boy ever had anyone else who cared about him.” She paused as she thought for a moment, “Are you sure there isn’t….anything else going on, Brianna? I will understand if there is.”  
Brianna looked up at the woman who in a short time had become nearly as dear to her as her own mother, “I don’t know, Wynne. I know he wants me, but we had a falling out once and I can’t do that again. Sometimes I worry that I’ll just be another conquest and then I worry I won’t be. It’s so confusing.”  
“Let it be then, dear. He needs to heal a bit more mentally as well as physically. On top of that, he’s still growing up a little. Let him do that first. I’ll be downstairs in the library if you need me.” She kissed Brianna on the cheek and left her.  
At night, Brianna still slept with Alistair in his bed, an arrangement that was unintentional but much desired by both of them. After the first night, she had made a pallet in front of the fire but when he awoke from a nightmare in the night calling out for her, she had climbed into bed as before, waking in his arms. They had said nothing to each other but the next night; she had just forgone the pallet in favor of his bed and had stayed there ever since. The nightmares had all but stopped for him since then.  
“Brianna?” she heard him call.  
She rushed to his side where he was sitting by a tree in the garden. He had asked to go there earlier instead of the lists and she had walked him down. “What is it Alistair? Is anything wrong?”  
“No, not really. At least not with me. I just wanted to ask you something.”  
“All right. What?”  
He took her hand in his and placed a small bag on her palm. “Open it.” She opened the bag to find the rose amulet, its chain whole and neatly mended. “Why did you throw it away?”  
Brianna sat down on a bench across from him. “I…I thought you’d thrown me away. There was no reason to keep it then.”  
“I see,” he replied. He looked up at the sky and sighed. “I throw everything away eventually. It’s the way I am. It’s what I was trying to tell you in the Fade. I learned a long time ago that I’m not supposed to be happy because every time I am, I lose it all.”  
“So what about now? Are you happy?”  
“There’s something I want more than anything and I can’t have it. If I did, I’d be so happy; at least until it was gone too. So the answer is: a little.” He smiled then, a smile that fit his mood.  
“So what is it that you want so badly?”  
“Right now I want to know if you’ll take that back. It’s yours and I want you to keep it. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”  
Brianna looked down at the necklace in her hand then back at him, “Only if you’ll take a gift in return.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag and handed it to him. He opened it and dumped the contents into his hand.  
“This…it’s my mother’s. Those are her initials. I thought I’d lost it years ago.” His finger traced the little figure of Andraste that was carved into the ivory, following the marks where it had been glued. “Where did you get this?” he asked, his voice choking a bit.  
“I found it in Eamon’s study. It was in the desk and Teagan said that Eamon had kept it after you threw it away. He mended it and was intending to give it back to you but the moment never came.”  
“It’s the most wonderful gift that anyone could ever give me.” He stood up and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, “So wonderful…”  
Brianna felt his tears on her neck and held him close, “You’re so welcome Alistair.”  
“Maker, you are so beautiful,” he whispered to her as she smiled.

@@@@@

When Brianna woke the next morning, she found herself alone in Alistair’s big bed; Alistair having left before the sun was up. His armor and weapons were missing from the armor stand but he had left something on his pillow. On it was the worn, leather bound journal that he so faithfully wrote in each day. A folded piece of paper stuck out of its cover bearing the name of its addressee, Brianna.  
Dearest Brianna,  
I want to tell you everything that you want to know but find I simply cannot. Some of it is too painful and bites too hard even now. Even still, I wish you to know the truth.  
Read it and find out for yourself what makes me who I am. When you are done, come to me and I will answer all your questions.  
Yours,  
Alistair  
Brianna hugged the book to her chest as she contemplated what he had done. He trusted her with his secrets, feeling she was worthy to keep and know them. She opened the book and began to read at the beginning.

Redcliffe Castle, Twenty-three Years Earlier

Alistair had been born in a room just off the kitchen at Redcliffe Castle. His mother, Helen, had been a kitchen girl there and had been promoted the year before to serving maid for the household dining room. It was when she had been serving one night that her life had changed dramatically.  
Helen had been a smallish sort of girl from what Alistair had been able to find out; with dark blondish brown hair, large blue eyes, and a merry smile that threatened to burst out from her face for the smallest reason. It was this combination that attracted the attention of the visitor to the Arl’s table.  
When the tall blond man had stopped her after dinner to inquire as to whether she was available later on in the night, she had replied happily, “Yes, my lord. Shall I come to you?” It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked to pleasure a visitor; the Arl compensated his servants well for such things, and so she pleasured this man, every night of his stay.  
When he left, he presented her with a large fat purse and a promise that he would return. She thanked the man and bid him well. The Arl had compensated her as well, giving her a better position within the household and better quarters for Helen and her daughter. It wasn’t until she discovered that she was with child that it dawned on her to ask who the handsome blond haired man really was. The answer sent her into a faint.  
Seven months later she took to her childbed, giving birth to a healthy baby boy that she named Alistair at his father’s request. The king of Ferelden visited her two weeks later and promised that he would see to both she and the baby’s welfare. Two months after that, Helen lay dead from a childbed fever, and young Alistair was nursed by a village girl who had recently lost her own child. From then on he was shoved from one woman to another, finally to no one, as the then five year old Alistair was simply forgotten in the hustle and bustle of the busy household. He spent much of his time running around the yards and bailey, doing the occasional errand for a few coppers and getting into mischief, finally collapsing each night in his bed after supper in the kitchen. He was always the last in the house to eat; right before the dogs.  
When the Arl married the Arlessa, things became more difficult for Alistair. For years the servants had been whispering about the blond haired boy that had the run of the castle. Many said he was the Arl’s son and those voices were heard by their new mistress. Alistair found himself under constant scrutiny to the point where he was forced to attend school at the local chantry, where it was hoped he would learn some manners and how to treat his betters. He came out of the experience polite but more defiant and with the most important skills he ever learned. Alistair had learned to read and write.  
From then on, it was a race to see how much of the Arl’s extensive library he could read, even if it meant stealing the books to do it. His favorites were history and novels, but he would read anything with words. He expressed disappointment at being teased by one of the stable boys when he was caught reading a bill of lading that had been attached to a crate stacked against the wall of the stable. He had chided his accuser by calling him an illiterate idiot, prompting the other boy to hit him several times and bloody his nose.  
At age seven, a prank on one of the kitchen boys turned ugly as the Arlessa became the target instead. With the Arl gone to Denerim on business, it was left up to her to see to his punishment. It was then that Alistair moved to the stables, where he stayed for the next three years. In winter, when the family moved to the estate in Denerim, Alistair slept with the hounds in the kennel, a difficult move as he had been scared of dogs at the time.  
At age ten, when his presence around the house became too much for the Arlessa, Alistair was sent in the company of two Templar knights to the Chantry school at the Great Abbey in Denerim, where he would be schooled, trained as a warrior, and taught discipline. He had screamed and called the Arlessa names all the way out the door and had had to be carried.  
Brianna stopped a moment and thought about what she had read. He’d not been beaten or starved at Redcliffe but instead had endured a life of complete inconsequence. The loneliness must have been unbearable for him and she could not fathom the strength of will he had had to develop to endure. She read on.

The Great Abbey, Denerim

At first, Alistair had resisted all attempts to mold him into a decent and obedient young man. It was only when he discovered the size of the library at the Abbey that he began to settle down. The sisters, finding out their young charge was a voracious reader, banned his use of the library as punishment for infractions of the rules. Alistair bowed to their wishes and began to show more initiative or so they thought, but he admitted in the journal that he had just gotten better at not getting caught.  
It was during these first weeks that Eamon had paid Alistair a visit. He told how he had been ushered into the Grand Cleric’s office, where he met the Arl. Eamon had come to apologize for Alistair’s treatment and to offer him the chance to return home if he wished. Ten year old Alistair had called the Arl a son of a bitch, and then had torn off the amulet of Andraste that he had worn as long as he could remember. “Even Andraste doesn’t give a shit about me, why should I believe you?” he had said and stormed out of the office. He had been found in the stables and escorted back to his room, where he stayed for two days as punishment for his blasphemy.  
His main interest besides reading was warfare training. Big for his age and strong, his instructors had at first decided he should learn to wield a two handed sword, but while sparring with a classmate one day, he had picked up a sword and shield and began to do things that students his age shouldn’t be able to do. The next day, he was handed his own sword and shield to use. It wasn’t long before he was the best in the class, beating even the older students during sparring matches. He had found his niche.  
Alistair’s background was a whole different story. A poor bastard son from a rural castle, he was looked down upon by the sons and daughters of wealthy and titled parents. Those of his classmates that had come from poor backgrounds looked down upon him since he came from a castle. He had few friends and was often moody and angry. When several of the older boys began to tease and bully him regularly, he fought back, earning himself beating after beating. Brianna remembered seeing a particular set of scars on the back of Alistair’s legs and his lower back. These, she learned, were the results of the numerous times he had been caned as punishment for a transgression. Her heart ached as she thought of him, alone and unloved, his back and legs bleeding from his latest beating.  
As she read, Brianna was surprised to see that there were opportunities for joy in young Alistair’s life. At fifteen, he had been allowed to leave the school for a week’s holiday with his “uncle” Teagan. As Eamon’s brother, Teagan had been accorded the same rights and privileges as Eamon himself received during his infrequent visits to Alistair. At Teagan’s home in Denerim, Alistair was allowed the run of the house and city, spending much of his time exploring. It was on this visit that Alistair was introduced to the joys of women.  
Teagan had a reputation as a rake, as Brianna herself was well aware of. It was on this occasion, after a talk with Alistair about his time in school, that Teagan decided his young nephew needed a distraction. He knew just the place and just the distraction.  
It was called “The Pearl” and it was the best whorehouse in town, known for clean, talented, and handsome men and women who could provide any service the patron desired. That night the patron desired a young, relatively experienced and patient girl for his young nephew’s first time. Her name was Jade, blond haired and buxom; she had the greenest eyes Alistair had ever seen. He had fallen in love at first sight.  
Jade had proven to be just the ticket to improving Alistair’s moodiness, teaching him all she knew about sex and pleasure in just a few visits. When she had been unavailable one night, he had chosen a raven haired beauty and had proven to be an even better student with her than with Jade. Brianna giggled as she noticed that Alistair had remembered his first girl’s name but not his second, only what she looked like. Fergus had been like that too, so Oriana had told her.  
After that week, Alistair became a frequent customer of the Pearl and the other houses near the Abbey. He had learned early that he needed to be careful where he went in fear of the Templars that would sometimes patronize these same establishments. While he wasn’t in Templar training at that time, his expertise with a sword and shield often had him sparring with the knights as the other students his age were no match for him. They would recognize him and know that he was out without leave.  
These frequent visits with the ladies of the night had actually been a balm to Alistair’s temperament and mood. He began to do better in school and was better adjusted in his outside life. It was at this time that he began to keep the journal as a way to express the feelings of anger he had towards Eamon, Isolde, the other students at school, and especially, his father.  
A few months after his seventeenth nameday, there was an unexpected visit from Arl Eamon in which he told Alistair a secret that would forever change his life and put him the path to his destiny.  
King Maric had embarked on a sea voyage and his ship had been caught in a storm off the coast of Amaranthine. It had disappeared with all hands and the Landsmeet had declared their monarch missing, presumed dead. Maric’s son, Cailan, son of his late wife and Eamon’s sister, Rowan, was declared king in his father’s stead. But that had only been the tip of the iceberg. Eamon had proceeded to tell Alistair that the strange unknown nobleman that had gotten him on Helen seventeen years before was King Maric and that Alistair was a prince of Ferelden.  
It was an impossible tale at the very least, but for some reason Alistair believed it, he knew not why. When he had asked Eamon why he was never acknowledged, Eamon could not answer suffice to say that it was for Alistair’s protection that he was never formally accepted. Alistair had thanked Eamon and had retired to his room to think. Two days later, the Templars came, and he moved to the barracks. His real trials had begun.  
Brianna put the book down and looked off into space as she imagined what it would have been like. At seventeen she was in the middle of her own martial training as well as advanced training in diplomacy and government. She had a family who loved her and a home. It had never dawned on her how lucky she had been and her heart ached. She jumped off the bed, pulled on her boots, grabbed the book and headed to her room. There was much to prepare for her and Alistair’s next journey together.

The Brecilian Forest

Three days later, Brianna, Alistair, Morrigan, Zevran, and Rufus were on their way to find the Dalish elves in the Brecilian Forest east of Redcliffe. The weather had turned warmer and spring was in the air as evidenced by the numerous flowers scattered everywhere they looked.  
Alistair had recovered from his illness as far as anyone could tell. He still took the tonic that Ballard had prescribed and Morrigan reluctantly brewed it for him each day as a favor to Brianna. “We cannot do this without him, Morrigan, even you know that,” Brianna had told her. The witch had agreed and delivered the tonic to Alistair each night with a warning to “Drink it first thing in the morning. Whether you do or don’t, I don’t care, Brianna asked and I will do it.”  
After the morning when she had awakened alone in Alistair’s bed, Brianna had returned to her own room. It was clear that Alistair didn’t need her to care for him any longer, but she couldn’t help but be sad that she had left him. She had slept better during the nights with him than she had at any other time since she had left Highever. Plus, she simply missed him.  
Alistair had asked that she return to his bed, promising to behave himself and not press his attentions. Brianna had smiled and admitted that while she had enjoyed their time together, she should return to her own room and bed. He had shaken his head and said, “I won’t give up, you know.”  
“I don’t expect you too, Alistair. Perhaps one day I will return,” she replied. He had not been happy but had accepted her decision.  
Four days out, Zevran spotted a trail that led into the woods. “Halla tracks,” he told them. “The Dalish have passed this way and not long ago.”  
“What do you say, boss? Ready to meet the Dalish?” asked Alistair with more than his usual cheeriness.  
“Find them Zevran,” Brianna said and followed him into the forest.  
After a week searching for the Dalish they were no closer to finding them than they had been when they first left Redcliffe. “Is there any way to find them in all this, Zevran?” asked Brianna as she stopped to take a drink. The heat of the early spring had reached the forest and while it made travel easy it did nothing to relieve their discomfort. The thickness of the trees blocked out the sun but also the breeze, making the air heavy, hot and humid.  
“They are here; we will find them when they wish to be found. I know they are watching us and when they see we are not a threat, they will show themselves.” Zevran wiped his brow and took the water skin from Brianna, drinking deeply.  
Alistair had found a large log and sat down, sweat dripping from his face, his discomfort in his heavy armor more than apparent. His linen undershirt was soaking wet and so was his hair. “What about a water source? I could really use a swim. I don’t think I could take much more of this.”  
Morrigan laughed as she noticed his discomfort. She had not been outwardly troubled with the heat since they had entered the forest, feeling quite at home there. “There should be water in that ravine over there if you are so inclined. But the fall is quite long. Don’t let me stop you.”  
“Funny. I’m laughing inside at your rapier wit.” Alistair’s comment was followed by an extremely rude gesture involving the prominent use of his middle finger. He had learned early on in their relationship that while Morrigan could speak the common tongue, she was unaware of many of its idioms and gestures. As soon as he had realized that, Alistair made good use of the knowledge, besting her in many arguments without her even knowing she’d been bested.  
Morrigan simply shrugged and turned away, eliciting a laugh from both Alistair and Zevran. Feeling it was time to help, Brianna whispered to the witch, “We really need to talk sometime about communication.”  
Morrigan turned to look at Alistair and then back to Brianna, “Perhaps that would be a good idea. Maybe without their knowledge?” Her eyes took on a mischievous look and Brianna smiled.  
“Of course. You think I would want them to know?” Both women laughed and started down the hill together in search of a water source.  
“It’s really unnerving the way those two get along,” Alistair pointed out.  
“I am beginning to wonder about that myself. Perhaps they are….no that couldn’t be, but it is a delightful thought,” answered the assassin.  
“What thought?”  
“Morrigan and our dear commander, my friend. It would be something to behold, I’m sure, the two of them together. It’s not like our sweet Brianna hasn’t before, you know.”  
Alistair’s head snapped to attention, “You mean to tell me that Brianna has…no way!”  
“Ah, but she has my friend. You do know of her training, do you not? She has been trained to please both men and women. It seems she has had the occasion to ‘practice’ those skills.”  
“But Brianna and Morrigan?”  
“I will admit that I do not believe in the prospect myself. I have it on good authority that our dear witch much prefers men. However, Leliana does not, so perhaps that is the vision you are questing for.”  
“Brianna…and Leliana? Maker! That would be a site to behold!” Alistair rose from his seat and started down the hill, following the women.  
“Where are you going?” asked Zevran as he quickly caught up.  
“To watch. You think I’m going to pass this chance up? Even if they don’t do anything, there’s always fantasy and self-abuse.”  
Zevran laughed all the way down the hill. “There is that, my friend. There is that.”

@@@@@

The elusive Dalish had shown themselves not long after and had welcomed the Wardens into their camp with a small amount of courtesy and a large amount of trepidation. Their keeper, Zathrian, was unlike anyone they had ever met and they weren’t surprised to find the at the man was several centuries old in a time when the average elf did not live much beyond the life span of the average human. “He’s dangerous, Bree, I can feel it,” Alistair had whispered to her. He recently taken to calling her Bree like her family had done at home and she loved it.  
“As much as I hate to agree with Alistair, and you have no idea how much it pains me to, he is right. The mage is dangerous,” added Morrigan. Alistair glared a softer glare than she usually received from him after such a comment.  
“So what do we do?” Brianna asked.  
Zevran looked around at the sick and dying elves lying all about the camp. Many were just children and the aged. “These are my people and I wish them to be well but there is more here that I want to know. Let’s find out what really happened.” The rest had agreed and they had all left the camp quickly after resupplying themselves.  
Tramping through the forest was much easier for Alistair now as he had finally come to his senses and purchased a set of leather armor from the Dalish craftsmen to wear instead of his heavy armor. It made him more vulnerable to some attacks but combat in the forest had so far been ranged and not much melee. He pulled out his seldom used bow, strung a new bowstring, and added it to his arsenal, making himself a greater asset to the group.  
“I like,” Brianna had said as she perused his new armor. “Stylish and functional. How does it feel?”  
Alistair smiled at her regard, “Much better, although I do miss knowing I have the extra metal between me and danger. I’ll have to remember that when they go for my weak side, it really is my weak side now.”  
“It will take some getting used to for both of us.” She leaned in and whispered, “You look very handsome, you know.”  
“Hmmmm…I might just keep it on all the time then,” he teased and leaned in closer, brushing the hair away from her face with his fingers. “Thank you.”  
You’re welcome,” she said, blushing from attentions.  
That night they camped near a waterfall to take advantage of the fresh water to bathe and drink. Brianna had drawn first watch and was sitting by the fire when Alistair joined her. “You should be getting some sleep, you have the next watch,” she had chided him as he sat down next to her.  
“I know but I find it harder to sleep without knowing you are near now. Can I keep you company?” he asked.  
“Of course. I’m not so strict at my command that I don’t welcome the company when it’s offered. How are you feeling now? It’s been a few weeks.”  
“So much better. I still get tired quicker than I should, but Wynne said that would happen for a while due to the blood loss. Otherwise, I actually feel better, like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.”  
“How long had you been like that?”  
“Not as long as it seems. When I was at the abbey I couldn’t get out all the time so I only drank in spurts and binges. I never did like the aftereffects so I avoided them as much as possible. Plus there are some things that are just more fun when you’re sober. But when I did drink, I always drank too much.”  
“What about when you joined the Wardens?”  
He got a little wistful as he thought about his old friends. “Well, most of them were heavy drinkers anyway. If they weren’t when they joined, they soon were. The nightmares and the stress get to them.”  
“So that’s what happened to you?”  
“No. That was the result of a visit from my brother. He sort of pushed me over the edge. You’ll read about it in the journal.” He paused then continued, “Are you reading it?” he asked softly.  
“Yes.”  
“What are you up to?”  
“The Templars,” she answered. Pausing, she added, “It’s hard, Alistair.”  
“I know. I don’t read it anymore because of that.” His arm slid around her slowly as he leaned in closer to her. “I wanted to thank you for reading it though. I was afraid you would just give it back to me.” His mouth moved in to nuzzle her neck and Brianna sighed and let her head fall to the side, giving him more access. He smiled and kissed her skin, inciting a soft moan from her. Alistair slowly drew her to face him and brought her lips to his, letting her decide how far they would go. When she met him halfway, he groaned and pulled her closer; wrapping his arms around her in a possessive grasp, meant both to mark her as his and show her how much he desired her. Their kiss was more than passionate, it was a meeting of lost souls who’d found their home at last and they took all they could from it.  
“Alistair…I…” Brianna panted, pulling away and not wanting to stop but knowing she had to. “I need to get some…wood…for the fire.” He released her and she stood up to walk to the pile of wood they had gathered for the night.  
The arrow was nearly silent as it found its mark, embedding itself in Brianna’s shoulder as she bent to pick up a stick of wood. “Alistair?” she asked, puzzled at the strange feeling in her body. She reached up to touch the wound then slowly crumpled to the ground at his feet.  
“Brianna!” he yelled. “Zevran! Morrigan! Darkspawn!” he screamed. Both of his sleeping companions joined him but could do little as they watched him slice through the darkspawn like a man possessed, hacking them to pieces in front of them. Zevran managed to take one out while Morrigan froze several, to be taken out by Alistair in his fury. In the end, more than a half dozen darkspawn lay dead around the camp and Alistair sat on the ground with Brianna in his arms, calling out to her through the haze. “Maker, no! Brianna! Stay with me, please!”

@@@@@

Alistair held her tightly while Morrigan and Zevran worked on Brianna’s wound. He had stopped trying to hide his feelings as the guilt he felt over her injury began to claim him. Morrigan cast a sleep spell over Brianna then pulled the arrow out of her shoulder, allowing Zevran to apply the red hot knife to cauterize the wound and seal it. Brianna screamed as the pain of the hot knife tore through her body causing Alistair to begin to mumble a prayer over and over as he struggled to keep his composure.  
When she had finally stopped bleeding and was relaxed, Morrigan dressed the wound, and turned to Alistair. “Alistair?” she asked softly, in a tone she had never used with him. “Go rest now. She will be well.” Her hand reached out to gently pull his hands away from Brianna as Zevran moved to take her from him.  
“Do as she says, amigo. All will be well, I assure you,” he told him. Reluctantly, Alistair released his hold on Brianna and Zevran took her, carrying her to her pallet within the tent she shared with Morrigan. He laid her down and covered her up, smoothing the hair from her brow as he did. “Sueño de amor. Todo estará bien,” he quietly whispered.  
Alistair watched him then went to his tent and returned with a blanket and lay down just outside of the tent where he could both see and hear Brianna. When Morrigan moved to tell him to go elsewhere, Zevran stopped her, “There is more between them than you or I can understand, mi hermosa bruja. To take that away from them now would hurt the both of them more.” Morrigan had not understood completely but had left the matter up to Zevran to handle.  
During the night, Brianna woke as she still often did. Alistair was there before she could cry out, his arms enfolding her as she relaxed back into a fitful sleep. In the morning, Morrigan found them entwined together, sleeping soundly. She shook her head and did what she could to check Brianna’s wound, leaving them as they were.  
Hours later, she was awake, but still feverish and cold, her head resting on Alistair’s chest as he snored away. When she moved, he jerked awake, looking down to see if she was well. “Bree?”  
“I’m here,” she said weakly. “Is there any water?”  
“Here.” He handed her a water skin and held it for her to drink. When she had finished, he checked to see she was not bleeding again. Her skin was hot to the touch. “Zevran thinks the arrow was poisoned. You need to lay still, love.”  
“I’m cold, Alistair,” she said as she lay her head back down on his chest and closed her eyes.  
“That’s the blood loss. It will go away soon. I’ll keep you warm, love.” He drew the blanket up to her shoulders and stroked her hair.  
“You called me ‘love,” she said weakly.  
“I did.”  
“Does it mean what I think it means?”  
“Only if you want it to.”  
“Soon,” she replied as she dozed off. Alistair smiled and held her as close as he could.

@@@@@

Brianna’s injury meant that the group could not travel for nearly a week. An infection had seeped into her wound as a result of the poison and both Morrigan and Zevran were in agreement that she should not travel until they could be sure she was completely out of danger. Alistair made sure that she stayed put, regardless of what other opinions she might have as their leader. On top of it all, Rufus refused to leave her side and became agitated if she tried to get up for something as simple as a drink or to relieve herself.  
Alistair had quietly negotiated with Morrigan for the use of her side of the tent, promising to do a favor for her at a later time once Morrigan decided what the favor would be. Brianna had asked Morrigan what the favor she had in mind for him was and she had smiled and said, “Something that I desire that will be both unpleasant for him and fun for me to watch.”  
“May I watch too?”  
“Of course. Did you think I would leave you out of it, my friend?’  
Brianna smiled as she noticed that Morrigan had called her a friend. It was a big step for the young witch who had grown up in the wilds without anyone but a cruel mother for company. Morrigan had not made overtures to anyone else in their group as she had to Brianna. The closest had been Alistair, whom it was known that she merely tolerated for Brianna’s sake. “Be sure to think of something good,” Brianna had whispered to her, giggling.  
“I will. Now, you head back over to that fire for a rest and I will bring you a bit of that tonic that that mage Ballard made up for Alistair. I’ve added something to it that I think will make it much more palatable.” Morrigan was off in a flash, as soon as she knew Brianna was doing what she had been told. She needn’t have worried as Rufus was Morrigan’s second and made sure that all her commands were obeyed.  
Despite being indisposed, Brianna made sure she was still fully in command, taking time each day to talk with each of the members of her unit to see that they were well. The night before, it had been decided that Zevran and Alistair would take off for a day of scouting to see what the dangers were nearby. There had been no more darkspawn incursions into the area since the attack on Brianna and Alistair was determined to keep it that way. He blamed himself for her attack.  
“I was distracted and as a result, so were you,” he explained, “I should have sensed them in the area, Bree. Because I was so engrossed in myself, I nearly lost the one thing that means the most to me. I won’t let it happen again.”  
“And so it’s not my fault that I allowed myself to be distracted as well?” she asked.  
“If I hadn’t been pressing my attentions on you, neither of us would have been distracted!”  
Brianna threw up her hands and turned away, refusing to argue the matter. Alistair had gone off with Zevran without speaking to her again, still angry with himself and her.  
As she sat by the fire, she got out Alistair’s journal to pass the time until he would return. The young prince was about to learn the price of devotion to duty.

Templar Training Barracks, Denerim

Alistair stood in the Grand Cleric’s office waiting for her to speak. She was reading a missive of some importance and would not be disturbed yet for this new matter before her. Several minutes later, she had finished, laying the scroll down and looking up at her visitor with a discerning eye. “Alistair.”  
“Your grace,” he said, bowing as he had been taught to do in her presence.  
“I have asked to see you so that I might explain your new path to you personally.”  
“What new path, your grace?”  
The woman poured herself a cup of tea, added the sugar and stirred the tea a moment before answering. “You have been selected to become one of my knights and learn the skills needed to defend the world against the curse of magic.”  
“I’m to be a Templar?” he asked, both amazed and angry. “Why?”  
“Your skills in battle are well known. You are a master of the sword and the lance as well as hand to hand combat. We need you. You will report to Master Donnelly at the Templar barracks. He will see that you are made welcome.”  
Alistair’s anger flared as he regarded this grand lady who made all his decisions for him, “I do not want to be a Templar, your grace. I respectfully request you reconsider.”  
“It is done, Alistair. You will accept it. There is no other path open to you,” she told him firmly and finally. “Good day.” The two guards, who had escorted him to her office, appeared out of nowhere and took his arms, escorting him out of the office and back to his room. There he was instructed to pack his belongings quickly, after which he was taken to the barracks, where he was given a room.  
“Unpack quickly and put those on,” said the taller brown haired guard, tossing a pair of breeches and the purple and gold tunic with the Templar order insignia on it. “When you are finished, report to Master Donnelly for assignment.” Alistair had nodded and the man left him, loudly closing the door behind him.  
Alistair had tried to embrace his new home at first. The food was good and he began to receive pay so he wasn’t forced to rely solely on the tiny monthly allowance he received from Eamon and his gambling winnings. He tried hard and worked long hours to impress his superiors, earning himself many accolades for his work.  
After three months, he had fulfilled the requirements for knighthood, three months earlier than the average. Master Donnelly informed him he would be knighted on the following Sunday and that he should prepare himself physically and mentally for the challenge. “Eat well and drink plenty of water. Rest up; the vigil is physically and mentally draining.” He had taken it to heart and done as he was told.  
On Saturday evening at nine o’clock, Master Donnelly ushered Alistair into the holy chapel at the Templar training grounds, where he was told to undress and remain for the night in penance and prayer. “I will return for you in the morning. You are to contemplate your worth as a man and confess your sins before the Maker and his bride. Do not sleep.” He had been left on his own.  
He described the first hours as both a blessing and a curse. The stone floor was unbearably cold and he was forced to stand most of the time since there were no seats or benches to speak of. A test of the door revealed that he was locked in for the night. A chamber pot had been provided by the door for his needs.  
In the end, he found some solace looking up at the great statue of Andraste, wondering if it was an accurate likeness of the woman and if not, what she had looked like. Imagining a buck toothed savior was entertaining for a while. Eventually, he had begun to think about his life and where he was in it. It was this solemn reverie that was disturbed that night, changing him forever.

@@@@@

The creaking of the gate disturbed his feeble attempt at prayer. Two men entered, dressed in the simple shirts and breeches that the knights wore under their armor. They were barefoot and one carried a small flask that Alistair recognized as a flask of oil.  
“Apprentice, you will stand before me,” commanded a tall, blond man with dark brown eyes. Alistair did as he was told. Master Donnelly had told him that someone would check on him periodically during the night.  
The other man, dark haired with a scar, spoke next. “We have come to test your mettle, boy. To see if you are fit to join our order. Do you submit to the test?”  
Alistair looked up at the two men; he recognized them both, having seen them in the lists while he trained but had never spoken to either before. He saw no reason to fear them. “I submit,” he said.  
The blond man looked at his companion and smiled a smile that began to put Alistair on edge. Looking back at him he ordered, “On your knees before me, apprentice.” When Alistair had done as he asked, the man continued, “This is your trial, apprentice. You will submit to us as we see fit. There will be no safe word.” With that said, he undid the laces of his breeches and Alistair’s eyes opened wide as he drew out his cock, hard and dripping. “Take it in your mouth, apprentice.”  
Alistair’s eyes grew angry, “No,” he said.  
“You refuse? There is no turning back boy. You have submitted to us. Take him in your mouth,” ordered the man with the scar.  
“No!”  
The blond man struck him hard with his fist, knocking Alistair to the floor and causing him to see stars. “Get up, boy!” The scarred man grabbed Alistair’s hair and pulled him up, causing Alistair to cry out from pain. His head was held back and strong hands pinched his nose. When he gasped for breath, he felt the cock being shoved into his mouth. “Suck it, boy! I’m so close!”  
The man with the scar released his nose and began massaging Alistair’s jaw, “That’s it, boy. Take it. Learn what it is to be one of us.” The blond man began to groan and pump in and out of Alistair's mouth, causing him to gag and retch. As soon as he started he was finished, spilling himself into Alistair’s throat until it was running down his chin.  
“Oh that was sweet, lad. Such a good lad,” the blond man crooned. He turned to the man with the scar, “Your turn to test him.”  
What happened next was something that Alistair could barely write about. The scarred man had taken him then, forcing him down to his hands and knees and preparing him with oil and his fingers. Alistair had begun to cry silently as he felt the head of the man’s cock enter him. The scarred man took him hard and spent himself quickly in what the he had called “a sweet ass.” The blond man had taken a turn next, pumping into him without mercy for what seemed hours, finally calling out to the Maker as he came.  
When both men had finished, they kissed him, welcoming him as their new brother. One of them produced a basin of cold water and a cloth which he used to wash all traces of their seed from Alistair’s body. The other applied a poultice to the boy’s swelling cheek. Then they left him, lying on the floor, sobbing, drawn up in a ball. That was where Master Donnelly found him at dawn, helping him up and taking him to the baths where he was told to clean himself well and dress. When he had finished, Master Donnelly took him to the great abbey itself and he was invested as a knight of the realm and inducted as an apprentice in the Templar order.  
At a banquet that night, held in his honor, Alistair went missing and could not be found. His new Templar brothers searched for him to no avail and eventually were forced to stop for the night in favor of the light of a new day. The next morning, the captain of the local watch arrived at the abbey gates with a delivery for the Grand Cleric; a drunken, passed out young Templar with blond hair and blue eyes who had been found in an alley near the palace.

@@@@@

The next two weeks had been torture for Alistair. During the day he found himself subjected to numerous tests and ordeals, both physical and mental, from running long distances to being forced to take on all comers in sparring until he collapsed from exhaustion. He survived them all, despite his growing desire to fail.  
At night, he was repeatedly plagued by horrible nightmares and would wake up screaming, a fact that alarmed Master Donnelly to the point of forcing Alistair to tell him what was wrong. Upon hearing of the incident in the chapel the master became furious, muttering “Fools! We do not treat our own in that manner.” Master Donnelly had left Alistair and returned later to tell him that the matter was taken care of and that the men in question would bother him no more. He had brought a mage with him who examined him and healed what damage had been done to him physically, providing a potion for the boy to drink to help him sleep better. Alistair learned later that the men had been sent a rural training center for punishment, never to be heard from again.  
One of the worst tests was a test of magical ability. He was taught a simple light spell by a mage, and then was encouraged to cast the spell to see how well he could do it. Alistair had managed to light the tip of his finger for a second or two, raising some eyebrows among his teachers, but it was soon revealed that while he had a predisposition for magic, he was not a mage and therefore an excellent candidate to learn the talents. They began to teach him at will and discovered soon that he was a prodigy. It required much concentration and meditation but the effects were rewarding and he was soon performing the talents as well or better than most other Templars.  
Once he had control of his abilities, he had to practice frequently to maintain that control. Mages from the Circle who had broken the rules and were in need of punishment were brought in and housed near the barracks. At times, a handful of them were taken to the practice field to be used for target practice. It was a painful and abhorrent method to teach and Alistair had at first refused but Master Donnelly told him that if he didn’t submit, he would find himself punished as well. He had, and had raised eyebrows as he apologized to each mage he smited or drained mana from. The pain that the mages suffered as well as Alistair’s knowledge that he was the one inflicting it fueled another binge of drinking that ended after he was discovered in another alley three days after he had gone missing.  
Alistair’s depression had reached a low point when he inexplicably started to write more positive things in his journal. Brianna had not been able to figure out what had changed at first until she finally read the name, Parlan. She was a young girl whose parents had been forced to indenture her to a local tavern to pay off their debts. It was not an unusual story by any means but for the fact that somewhere along the way she had met Alistair.  
Alistair had noticed her as she fended off the advances of a swarthy Rivaini man who smelled of too many months at sea. He didn’t know what made him get up from his drunken haze in the corner of the tavern to help her but he had, sending the man to the floor with a punch that nearly broke his jaw. Parlan had made his excuses, taking Alistair up to her room and locking the door to hide him from the guard. She had turned to him and laughed a merry laugh that he said was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He’d spent the next two days with her and nearly every night after that for three months. Twenty year old Alistair was in love.  
When his Templar superiors heard of his infatuation with a woman, and an indentured servant, they had acted swiftly to see that the affair was ended. Parlan was packed up and sent off and Alistair was confined to quarters. When he had finally managed to get away, he found her gone and the depression began in earnest. One night, he packed a bag with spare clothes and food, climbed out the window of his room and escaped, making it as far as the northern coast between Denerim and Highever before being caught. As punishment, he had been whipped and confined for a week. He had never tried to run again. All he wanted now was to die.

@@@@@

The pattern of Alistair’s drinking began to slow a bit when he began to patronize the whorehouses again. He had begun to see that the act of making love to a woman had a calming effect on him that he much desired. He found his women in all places, mostly taverns and brothels, but confessed to affairs with several maids on the abbey household staff and one with an older female Templar. He had no favorite type but when asked he would always say brown hair and blue eyes. When asked why, he would say, “She’s a dream I have.” Brianna laughed and then remembered that though the entry had been written nearly three years earlier, she had brown hair and blue eyes. Alistair was a great favorite among the madams and barkeepers at his favorite establishments, often earning free drinks and services simply with his charming smile, good looks and great humor.  
Alistair soon descended into a pattern of hard work during the day and women, gambling and drinking a few nights a week. He rarely got into any trouble at the abbey even though his excesses required that he sneak out of the barracks during off hours. The Grand Cleric looked the other way, only occasionally chiding him for his behavior to keep up appearances; his status as a member of the royal family clearly keeping him from any serious punishment. This pattern continued until the day an announcement was made at first meal informing the knights of a tournament to be held in honor of the Grey Wardens to celebrate their service to the order and the country.  
If there was one thing that Alistair had a passion for that didn’t involve women or alcohol, it was the Grey Wardens. It had started when he was a child, sitting at the great fire in the castle hall listening to Edwin the bard tell stories of the Wardens through history. He had located every copy of every book in the castle that even remotely mentioned the Wardens in passing and had horded them, reading them to the point of memorization.  
The tournament was a high point for Alistair; his prowess with a blade would insure that he was noticed, perhaps even selected. He was first in line to sign up for both single and melee combat competitions. What followed next nearly proved his ruin.  
The night before the tournament, several of Alistair's Templar brothers had sought him for a night of fun in a local tavern. He had intended to keep himself sober for the night but had relented under their coaxing, eventually waking up on the floor of a local brothel, naked and sick. He had grabbed his clothes and ran back to the barracks to dress for battle but was so hung over that he lost all three of his matches in quick succession in the single combat and was forced to withdraw due to illness from the melee. His humiliation complete, he had retreated to the baths to soak and perhaps drown.  
That evening, the Grand Cleric held a banquet for the visiting Warden Commander, Duncan, and perchance asked the man who he wished to recruit from her ranks. Duncan had smiled at the elderly lady and announced, “Your grace, I choose Ser Alistair of Redcliffe as my recruit.”  
Alistair hadn’t been paying attention when his name was called; he was that miserable and sick. But when Halden, who was sitting next to him at the time, nudged him aside telling him, “Hear that Al? He chose you!” He had opened his eyes and knew that it was true. The two burly Templar guards that hauled him out of his seat and into the Grand Cleric’s office sealed it for him.  
Thirty minutes later, he was following Duncan back to the palace and the Grey Warden compound.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story contains possible trigger scenes for sexual abuse. Read with care.

The Brecilian Forest

“Brianna?” Alistair’s voice was soft as he spoke to her. He hadn’t wanted to disturb her while she read, but he had to know she was all right. Looking over her shoulder he had seen she was reading the section about his conscription so he knew she had read the rest of what happened before.  
Brianna looked up and he could see that she had been crying. Whether it was about him or for him, he didn’t know; he only knew he hated it and never wanted to see her do it. “You’re back,” she said, her mood brightening as she marked her place and set the book down next to her. “I was reading.”  
He knelt down next to her, “You are okay then?”  
She threw herself into his arms, “I am now.”  
He clasped her tightly, “I so sorry, love. I shouldn’t have gotten angry.”  
“We were both in the wrong there, I think. From now on, no fraternizing on watch, that’s an order.” She smiled as she held out her hand.  
“Deal,” he said as he took the offered hand and instead of shaking it, brought it to his lips. “We’ll start over.”  
“Thank you for saving me and staying with me. I would never have made it without you.”  
“You are welcome, love,” he replied.  
Brianna’s hands caressed his face as she looked into his eyes. Slowly she pressed her lips to his, feeling him open and moan in anticipation of more. She wasn’t well enough to give him what he wanted but she was well enough to give him a taste. He deepened the kiss and their tongues mimicked the act they desired. Pulling away he asked her in a husky voice, “Brianna, I…I want you so much. Tell me what you want.”  
“I’ll take this for now and more when I finish reading.” She smiled at him and he chuckled.  
“Never let it be said I didn’t give a lady what she wanted.”  
“Hmmm. I take it that works?”  
“Especially when it leads to this.” He captured her mouth in a kiss that shook her to her toes. They parted panting with desire and he said, “Read, love. I’ll have you know it all before you tell me yes or no. Until then, I’ll settle for a taste of heaven.” He kissed her again and left her to go to the stream to wash. She picked up the journal and continued.

The Grey Warden Compound, Fifteen Months Earlier

Duncan led Alistair through the barracks to a small room at the end of the hall. “This will be your room.” Alistair looked around the room; it contained a good sized bed, a chair and desk and a bureau. It was austere but warm and inviting, a big change from the cold uncomfortable rooms at the Templar barracks. “You’ll take your meals in the main hall where you saw the tables. There’s a well-equipped training area in the back and there is one room to the right of the main doorway that I must ask that you do not enter for now. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for your Joining.”  
“Duncan?” Alistair asked as the big warrior turned to leave. “Why me?”  
The Warden Commander of all of Ferelden smiled at the question. It was one that had been asked him by dozens of recruits over the years. Most he had a good answer for, they were the best warriors or mages, or they had strong constitutions. But Alistair went beyond that logic and thought. Duncan had chosen him for a different reason; he had seen him in his dreams. Alistair’s destiny was tied to the Wardens and he had a purpose in the coming strife. “You have a strong will, Alistair and that makes you a valuable asset to our order. What we have to do requires more strength of will than anything else. You also have a good heart; you want to do what’s right.”  
“I may want to, but I rarely do. The Grand Cleric let me go for a reason. I’m a disaster waiting to happen.”  
Duncan laughed at his new apprentice’s humor, “Sometimes a disaster is just what we need to fight Darkspawn. Get your things squared away. Alina will be back with the bed linens shortly. I had her pick up a few rugs and a bookshelf to spruce things up a bit too. I know you like to read and there is a library off the common room that will be yours to peruse after your Joining. I’ll see you at dinner. Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Alistair.” He shook Alistair’s hand vigorously and left him standing.  
Supper had been unbelievable with more food than Alistair had ever seen outside of a Feast Day meal at Redcliffe Castle. There was meat, fish, and poultry of all kinds, tons of vegetables and several desserts. Duncan had explained that Grey Wardens had great appetites so they spared no expense when it came to food, even hiring the best cooks in the country and paying them well. He had eaten more than he had ever eaten in one meal that night.  
Duncan had sent him to his room to rest while the rest of the Wardens prepared for the Joining. Alistair was nervous as he sat down at his desk to write and admitted he didn’t know what to expect. Brianna had smiled as he had started a sentence and had not finished it, coming back later to add that he had been called by Duncan to his Joining and left it unfinished, not remembering what he had thought to say.  
He had left the Joining out of the journal for obvious reasons. The secrecy of the ritual needed to be preserved for the good of the order. Alistair had instead described his feelings about the ritual, calling it “profound and terrifying at the same time.” Brianna thought he had explained it well. He expressed anger and sadness at the loss that resulted from the ceremony and she had known that he spoke of the one man who had died as a result of ingesting the taint. He had told her that an Orlesian Warden named Riordan had been forced to slit the man’s throat to spare him the pain. In the journal he said that he was “forever changed mentally and physically from the experience.” He had then added that he couldn’t put any of what he’d experienced into words as they failed him.  
The next day was spent in learning about the Wardens’ history and secrets. A tall heavy set man with a huge smile named Rohan helped outfit him in new armor and weapons. “Master Wade will be by tomorrow to see that the armor fits,” he had told Alistair. “Grab a training sword, lad and let’s see what you’ve got.” Alistair had spent the rest of the day sparring with several of the men who were all impressed with his skills. They all had varied fighting styles that Alistair was told they would be willing to teach him if he desired. He had offered to teach anyone the Templar talents who had the desire and the abilities.  
“I’m not keeping their secrets anymore. They are a vile order that I have no loyalty to, but I’ll take our secrets to the grave, boys,” he had said. In the end he had a half dozen men take him up on his offer.  
Brianna was puzzled at the next section in the journal when there appeared a cryptic passage referring to the “journey to the coast” being successful and that “the deed was done.” She scoured though the writings for any reference that might give her some light as to what the journey had been but couldn’t find anything. Alistair had noted that “Duncan asked me where I had been for so long and I told him that I had business to attend to. It is fortunate that he didn’t press the matter.” There was nothing else said about where he had been and why.  
Alistair was at home at last in the Grey Wardens. He still told stories of carousing and whoring, but these men, he said, “They deserve the best that can be offered them. A bit of rough behavior should be expected.” Alistair himself refrained from such behavior, he admitted. He felt that such things were behind him and he wanted to keep his mind clear for the greater tasks at hand. Brianna smiled as she read the section; he had been so happy then and she wondered what had sparked the self-destructive part of him to emerge again.  
It wasn’t what she thought it would be.

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Alistair had been sparring with Rohan the day he met the man who would set loose the demons inside him. Rohan had picked up dual weapons to use against the newest Warden, teaching him how to better defend himself from the fighting style. Alistair was a quick student with a good eye and was managing to best the big warrior as they worked. As they stopped to wipe their faces and get a drink, Rohan looked up and noticed they had a visitor, “The King.” He indicated the approaching entourage led by Duncan and a tall handsome blond man in shining armor.  
“Shit,” exclaimed Alistair as he wiped off his face and neck. “That’s all I need.”  
Rohan had looked at him surprised, but instead of asking him what was wrong, he patted him on the back and said, “Again boy?” Alistair had lowered his visor and raised his sword for the first blow.  
Alistair hadn’t written much about the visit itself. He’d been introduced to his brother as the “new Grey Warden,” a title he had also used with her when they had met. Cailan was “everything I thought he would be,” he’d written. “He’s a spoiled brat playing at war. He wouldn’t know how to fight himself out of a paper sack.” Brianna had laughed at the comparison, for having known Cailan herself and sparred with him, the analogy was correct. He was as good a swordsman as his sparring partners allowed him to be. It was what she read next that infuriated her.  
Cailan had argued vehemently with Duncan about Alistair while still within his hearing. “You know who he is and yet you recruited him anyway?” asked an angry Cailan.  
“I was in need of a recruit, your majesty. Alistair was the best candidate for the job. I stand by my choice,” defended Duncan.  
“He’s a drunk and a womanizer. Despite all my attempts at silencing him, he continues to surface and plague me. How long before I must call on more desperate means to be rid of the man?”  
“He has no desire to usurp you or take the throne, sire. He only wants to serve the Wardens and work for the greater good. I promise you, I meant no disrespect in bringing him here. He is a Warden now and as such will remain.”  
“He is not to come near the palace while I am in residence. This is my command. If I find that he has so much as spoken an unkind word against my rule, I will see that he is dealt with, permanently.” Cailan had accepted Duncan’s bow and had departed quickly after that but the damage was already done.  
That night, Alistair was conspicuous by his absence in the hall. A messenger arrived after midnight for Duncan, asking him to come “fetch the Warden.” Alistair was in trouble, drunk in a tavern three streets over. When Duncan arrived, he was lying on the floor, his face bloodied from having been beaten by the husband of a woman he’d been toying with.  
Duncan had paid the outstanding bill, then had turned and hit the husband so hard that the table he fell on collapsed into several pieces. Picking up the unconscious body of his young apprentice, he strode out of the tavern telling the owner that the place was now off limits to the Grey Wardens for being inhospitable. The place had emptied out fast after that. The Wardens were still respected by the common folk.  
After that night, Alistair settled into a pattern of self-destructive behavior. He still wrote in his journal, but Brianna could tell the entries were sporadic, often with days or weeks between them. What little he had written told the story; his own flesh and blood wanted him dead. The only reason he wasn’t already was because Cailan had been a coward about it, opting instead to send him where he would disappear. Alistair was lost as he felt the only place he could call his own was being ripped away, just like everything else was. “I have nowhere to go, no one to turn to. What’s the use?” he wrote.  
When Duncan had intervened to stop Alistair from his slow downfall, Alistair had become angry, accusing the one man who gave a damn about him of being in cahoots with Cailan and just wanting him dead. Duncan had retreated then, deciding the best course of action was to let the boy fall as far as he could before helping him up.  
When the call came for the Grey Wardens to mass at Ostagar for the coming battle. Alistair had been eager to go. His mood suddenly improved and he worked hard at his weapons practice. Duncan had hoped that his youngest Warden had made the decision to join them again. Alistair had written, “Finally, the chance I need. It’s time.”  
Alistair had indeed made his decision and that choice gave him great peace. But if Duncan had had any idea what that decision was, he would have never allowed Alistair to go to Ostagar.  
Alistair was going to kill himself and Duncan was going to help him do it.

Ostagar, Nine Months Earlier

Alistair had had it all planned out. He’d migrate to the front of the line of troops as they waited for the charge. From there all he had to do was charge into the fray at the head of the line, find a group of Darkspawn and drop his shield and sword. The Darkspawn would take care of the rest. It would be a glorious death. Unfortunately, the problem with great plans is that there are always great pitfalls. Alistair’s plan was no exception.  
He’d endured the hours of standing at attention merely because he was going to die, so a few hours a day standing around the camp made no difference to him. He used the time to his advantage, planning out what he would do to the smallest detail, including making allowances for when things didn’t go his way. The big drawback was Duncan.  
From the first battle it was apparent that Duncan was purposely keeping Alistair out of the fighting. Alistair hadn’t complained the first time, but the second and third sounded way too suspicious to him. Duncan had to suspect something was going on but how? “The next battle will be my first and last. If I have to abandon whatever duty I’m given, I will. I can’t take it anymore.”  
Then she had come into his life.  
Brianna smiled as she read the account of their first meeting. “I’ve never in my life met such a beautiful woman,” he’d written. “It has to be a dream.” Alistair talked of being tongue tied at their first meeting, unable to utter a single word without being prompted by Duncan and feeling like such a fool. Brianna remembered the day well herself, at the time thinking that Alistair was just another man, hungry for a woman in his bed and money in his purse. She had found he was not that at all.  
Somewhere along the way, Alistair forgot that he was there to die. He embraced his role as a Grey Warden mentor to Brianna and her companions. His admiration for her abilities was huge and he wrote that when he had found out about what had happened to her family, he was furious and vowed to help her find vengeance. He prayed to the Maker that she make it through her Joining. “She makes me want to be better,” he wrote. When he had held her in his arms after the ceremony, he felt he may have “found his place and the one to share it with. I want no more than to live for her and live well.” Brianna was dumbstruck at the emotions that ruled him in the early hours of their relationship. She had quite literally saved his life simply by meeting him.  
There was a bare section next where he briefly described their mission to the Tower of Ishal as “folly, but seemingly necessary at the time.” He had written of his great despair and disillusionment when he found out that Loghain had abandoned the King and taken his troops out of the battle zone, leaving all the others to die, including the Grey Wardens. Brianna ran her hand over the writing on the page and traced the stains of what she knew had to be his tears.  
He had awoken in a sparse hut, tended by what he called “a black witch and the one she called mother.” The power that ran through them was greater than any he had ever encountered so he had carefully kept his own powers under wraps so as to not offend or scare either of them. He was more concerned for Brianna.  
Alistair found her lying next to him, covered in poultices and bandages, a large one wrapped around her head. He had prayed that she was all right, promising anything the Maker wanted to insure she would be. Morrigan had assured him she would recover and he spent long hours at Brianna’s side, waiting for her to awaken. Even after he had been allowed to leave the hut and resume his normal routine, he had still not strayed far from her side. He wrote of the brief feeling of joy when Rufus had found him outside while he exercised. The dog had been thin and tired but ecstatic to see him. Flemeth had laughed at how the dog had jumped up on him in his joy of finding someone he knew. She had admired the animal’s constitution and loyalty and had seen to his healing herself, an act that Alistair had thanked her for. Alistair had persuaded Morrigan to allow Rufus into the hut for a few minutes to see his mistress before she banned him from the hut as a “dirty domesticated wolf.” Rufus had stood guard outside the door from then on, leaving only to attend to his needs and to eat.  
When she had finally emerged from the hut after six weeks of confinement, Brianna had looked pale and drawn, having lost weight. Alistair had been so overjoyed he had nearly kissed her. Even the forced addition of the annoying Morrigan to their party wasn’t enough to dampen his joy that she had returned to him.  
Brianna closed the book slowly as she let her mind wander over the events she had read about. There was much that still needed to be revealed to her and she knew much of it would not be good news. If she had one regret from all she had read, it was her treatment of Alistair during this time. Her thoughts of him had still been governed by the one bawdy story told to her by Daveth, who had been admiring and in awe of Alistair. She smiled as she thought of Daveth, quick as lightning with a blade yet so awkward with her. She said a quick prayer to the Maker for his soul and Jory’s and joined Alistair at the fire.

Redcliffe Castle

“You are by all accounts the most stubborn man I have ever known, Alistair! You look a tremendous opportunity in the eye and say no?” Eamon was livid as he stared down his former ward. “What do you expect us to do if you don’t become king?”  
“I don’t know. Back Anora’s claim, I suppose. I’m a Warden, my lord. I have obligations that go beyond being king,” Alistair defended.  
Brianna stared in amazement at Alistair, “You would…give it up?”  
Alistair looked down at her, “I did not say that.”  
“Then what did you say?” demanded an even more irate Eamon.  
“I said I don’t want it. Would you like to know why?”  
“That would be very enlightening.”  
Alistair took a step forward and looked the Arl straight in the eye, something Brianna didn’t think he had ever done before. “The only reason you want me to be king is because you can’t be. You think that by making me king, you have a way to rule through me, thinking I’ll be the soft malleable man you tried to make me all these years. Well, guess what? It didn’t work! Thanks you to I have had to endure twenty three years of sleeping in freezing barns and kennels, beatings with canes and whips, religious zealots and rape. All so you could be king by proxy. It’s not going to happen!”  
“I…I don’t know what to say, Alistair. Has it truly been that bad for you?” Eamon asked, clearly cowed and in his place.  
“Worse, not to mention what it all led to. I’m clean now and will stay that way. I will fight for you but I will not be ruled by you. If you cannot understand that then we are useless to each other.”  
Eamon turned and paced towards the fire of the great hall, his mind clearly thinking out the prospects that had been thrown at him. When he turned back, he had decided. “Very well, Alistair. We shall work for another solution to the situation. You will forgive me if I still let it be known that we intend to put you forward? It would work well as a ruse.”  
“You may tell them Rufus is to be king for all I care. Let me do what I have to do first, my lord.”  
Eamon smiled slightly, “I may tell them that. He seems a good candidate himself.” Rufus barked his agreement at the idea, bringing much needed levity to the tense room. “Very well, I assume you are off to Orzammar next. I have letters of introduction to some of the noble houses. They might help you in your task. In the meantime I’ll assemble the army and get them ready to march. If you and the Lady Brianna will excuse me, I seem to be rather tired.” Alistair bowed before the Arl as he left, leaving Brianna and him alone in the hall.  
Brianna watched as the mantle of leadership passed back to her. Alistair’s shoulders began to slump a bit and he lowered his head and cursed. “Andraste’s flaming hole! Will I ever be rid of this mess?”  
“Do you want to be?” she asked.  
He turned to look at her, a sudden look of determination on his face. “I will be king, Brianna. And not because he wants me to, because I want to.” It was a declaration that she never expected and she was forced to sit down after hearing it.  
“Because you want to?”  
Alistair sat down next to her and took her hand in his, stroking it softly as he spoke, “I want this, love. I know I told Eamon otherwise, but I do. I can do it and I will but there is one condition.”  
“What is that?” she asked.  
“I must have you beside me. I can’t do it without you. Please say you’ll help me!” he pleaded.  
Brianna looked down at their joined hands. Saying yes would be a commitment that she could never back out of. It might lead to marriage or at the least she would be Alistair’s top advisor. “What would be my role?” she asked softly.  
“That would be for you to decide, but I would like for you to be my queen.”  
“You’re asking me to marry you?”  
“Yes.” He turned to her and took her face in his hands. “I can’t do it without you, my love.”  
“Alistair, I…I can’t give you an heir. What will you do about that?”  
He rose and paced in front of her. This was something he had not considered. “I…I don’t know.” He was clearly in anguish as he pondered the thought of being with another woman besides her, “Shit Brianna! I can’t do that! Not now!” His hands came up to his face as he worried.  
Brianna was suddenly there, pulling his hands down and holding them in hers. “Then if it comes to that, I’ll do it. We’ll pick someone and I’ll take care of it. The child will be mine and look like you and no one will be the wiser.”  
Alistair looked at the woman he loved and knew the sacrifice she would have to make to give him what he needed. “You…would do that…for me?”  
She looked up at him, knowing she would never be able to deny him anything he asked her. “I’d walk through the fires of the Black City for you, Alistair.”  
Alistair had no reply for her. He took her in his arms and let his actions speak as he held her tightly. He didn’t deserve her but by the Maker, he’d keep her.  
Later that night, in her room as she read, Brianna began to learn how much he did love her and the lengths he would go to show her. 

Lothering, Seven Months Earlier

“Of all the things I could do to impress a woman I want, getting drunk wasn’t a good choice,” Alistair had written when he talked of his experiences in Lothering. Grief had overtaken him and he had no idea how to deal with the loss of the only people he had ever called friends. “Why does everyone I care about leave me?” he wrote in an anguished tone.  
Brianna knew well how he felt as she felt it herself every day. What she did not understand were the depths of Alistair’s feelings. With no parents or family to speak of and everyone he ever cared about dead or taken from him, he knew more about grief than she would ever know and that thought scared her. He had already toyed with the idea of suicide once, he could do it again.  
“Brianna found me in the chantry committing my usual sacrilege. Why does she put up with me? I’m no help to her as a leader or anything else. Morrigan is right, I’m a fool,” he had written. “Yet Brianna came to find me anyway. Why?” Brianna didn’t know herself then, she had assumed it was a desire to make sure he was all right. Now she knew it was more.  
“But her kiss…why did she let me? It was the most wonderful feeling I’ve ever experienced. I can’t stop thinking about it or her. Maker! What do I do now?” Alistair had been nearly wordless as he tried to reason it out. “I want her so much, more than any woman I’ve known, but I won’t have her like this. Not while I’m dirty.”  
It was then that he had decided to improve himself. Since alcohol was in short supply, he had stopped his binges. And a lack of partners had not lowered his libido but had slowed it considerably. “It seems I’m back to square one,” he wrote, “Self-abuse is the only route for me now.”  
His thoughts reminded Brianna about an incident on their way to Redcliffe from Lothering. She and Alistair had elected to search for firewood and had gone in separate directions to hunt. After about a half hour of searching, Brianna had decided to find him and go back to camp. She had tracked him to a small clearing where she had found him, leaning up against a tree, his hand on his cock, moving vigorously up and down as he moaned her name. Brianna had stood still in the shadows, fearing to move, lest she call attention to herself and the fact she was watching him. He had kept pumping away until his head came up and he looked to where she was standing as he came, calling her name and the Maker’s as he spilled his seed onto the ground. Brianna had waited until he had recovered himself then stepped out of sight and quickly ran back to camp as he tidied himself up. Alistair had never mentioned if he had known she was there or if it was just a coincidence that he had looked her way, but she couldn’t help but feel he had known all along.  
Redcliffe was an entirely different matter to him. “While it’s so good to be home, I can’t help but feel that I’m not wanted.” Alistair wrote good things about the people of his home, expressing great grief for those who had died. His admiration of their strength and perseverance in the face of almost certain death had touched him while the circumstances, once revealed, had angered him beyond reasonable thought. “Isolde is behind all this death and despair. Her selfishness attracted the demon to her only to have it possesses the one person she cared most for, her son. Would that it were her that was possessed instead; I would do the deed myself and rid the world of her possession.” Brianna shivered at his cold and calculating words. This was the dark side of him talking and it terrified her.  
Alistair held the Arlessa responsible for his own personal misery, and rightly so, she read. But strangely enough, he hadn’t blamed her for acting the way she did. “She saw me as a threat to any children she would have even though I know she didn’t think Eamon was my father. She was trying to protect herself, but I still find it hard to forgive her.” His tone with her when they spoke told the story of years of mental abuse and neglect. When she should have embraced him as a motherless child and saw to his care as the mistress of the household, she had instead blamed him for her faults and punished him. “The Maker will have much to speak to her about when she goes to his side.”  
Alistair had great respect for the Arl and knew that he had been unaware of how Alistair had been treated all the years that he had lived in Redcliffe. “Any other orphan in my position would have been sent to a Chantry orphanage hellhole. Instead, I was fed, clothed and educated in the manner of a gentleman instead of a peasant. No man in my position would have been more pleased. My father could have had me killed outright as a threat to my brother’s claim but Eamon saw that I was preserved. I owe him my life.” Brianna understood what Alistair had meant when he had told her that he had a greater stake in finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes than she had.  
Brianna had begun to see more of what moved Alistair to his dark moods and binges. While she knew what he needed, she still doubted the idea that she was the one to give it to him. He loved her, she knew, and had all but told her so. The nagging feeling in the back of her head kept wondering if she could ever be enough for him. Would he stray as he had so many times before? Closing the book, she pulled out her daggers and whetstone. There was so much to ponder and the Orzammar was upon them.

Orzammar

“Is this what it’s going to be like for me from now on?” asked an annoyed Alistair as they were forced to stand and wait in another audience hall for another deshyr to see them and tell them he or she couldn’t help.  
“No, actually you get to be the one to tell them to wait,” replied Brianna as she smoothed her dress for the thousandth time.  
Leliana had suggested that she and Alistair forgo their usual metal suits in favor of more luxurious and soft clothing. “These people will not expect the future king of Ferelden and the Teyrn of Highever to approach them in armor but in silks and satins. They understand that wealth is power, not strength of arms as we do on the surface.”  
Brianna admitted that she was right and consented to allowing Leliana to choose her two dresses from an expensive dressmaker in the Diamond Quarter while Zevran took Alistair to an equally expensive tailor to fit him for new breeks, shirts and coats that would complement the future king. Alistair was unconvinced of the necessity of the clothes and found them a nuisance at best. The shirts were too tight around the neck with their high collars causing him to chafe and pulling on the neck to loosen it didn’t help.  
Alistair’s misery was perfectly counterbalanced by Brianna’s elegance. He had never seen her so lovely and poised. She was resplendent in a deep scarlet red dress with a black sash, a small jeweled dagger tucked into the folds of the sash. The neck of the dress was high with a slash at the neck and down each sleeve that showed just enough skin to titillate and not enough to be indecent. Alistair made a note to tell Zevran that his breeks were too tight when he saw her for the first time.  
“Bree?” he asked.  
“What is it?” she answered, turning from the painting she had been studying.  
“Am I doing this right? The ‘trying to king thing’ and all?”  
Brianna laughed at his question. “There is no right way to do it, you know. That’s why there are so many different countries with so many different types of rulers and problems. No one does it the same.”  
“But am I doing it right?” His tone had changed to one of great worry and concern. “I want to do it well.”  
“We’ve already talked to both of the parties in line for the throne and you handled them beautifully. Every meeting with every one of the nobles we’ve presented with letters from Eamon has gone well. You are a natural, Alistair. You listen to what is said, gather the information you need and make the decisions you have to. If you speak, you always say just the right thing at the right time. If you make a mistake, you try to make it better. No one could ask for more.”  
He was unconvinced, “But is it enough?”  
Brianna stepped forward and straightened his collar, then leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. “More than enough. Your father would have been proud.”  
Alistair smiled at her comment and bent down and kissed her lips, lingering long enough to get her to sigh. “You do know you are irresistible in that dress.”  
Her cheeks blushed just the right shade at his words, “See? You said just the right thing at the right time. Thank you, your highness. I am honored by your compliment.”  
His arms came around her and he pulled her close and added mischievously, “Then if I had said something about going somewhere quiet and taking it off, I’d have gone too far?”  
“Here, yes. Later, perhaps not. We will have to see,” she answered just as mischievously as her arms encircled his neck and he bent down and kissed her again.  
A loud throat clearing broke them apart as the deshyr’s steward announced, “Her ladyship will see you if you will follow me.” Alistair gave Brianna his arm and they followed the man down the hall to their next meeting.

@@@@@

“You know, I went to a circus once where they had trained dogs that ran around and jumped through little hoops. This has to be how they felt,” Zevran said sarcastically as he dismantled another trap. They had entered the underground of the local leader of the criminal element known as the Carta in the hopes of ending her reign of terror on Dust Town and the Commons. Prince Bhelen had asked them to do so as a show of good faith to the Assembly and to him. It had not been going well.  
Alistair and Rufus had wounds that were plaguing them and the group had become lost more times than they could count. With the lack of sun underground, the group had no sense of direction or time which had begun to wear on them.  
“That prisoner said Jarvia was right ahead. You saw him, he had no reason to lie,” replied Brianna as she loosened Alistair’s breastplate and applied a poultice to a knife wound.  
Alistair leaned in and whispered, “It was poisoned, love. I’ll need Wynne soon.” Brianna looked up at him, worry etched deep on her face. His hand came up and his finger traced a line down her cheek. “I would have said something sooner but I didn’t know. That could be what’s bothering Rufus too. I’ll be all right for a little while longer. Let’s just get out of here.”  
Brianna took charge, “Zevran, find them now! I’m tired of this monkeying around. I’ll have it done.” Zevran’s eyebrows raised and his eyes grew large as he looked at her. When Alistair nodded his agreement, he took off, searching for the elusive Carta headman. She turned to Morrigan, who had knelt down to check Rufus as he lay on the ground before her. “Is there anything you can do for them? Alistair says its poison.”  
“He is right, as it pains me to say. Wynne has taught me a rejuvenation spell that will help him. Unfortunately it has no effect on dogs. Until we can get Rufus back to Wynne, potions and poultices are all we have.” She looked down at the dog, panting with pain, and began to chant softly under her breath. Rufus quieted and his breathing slowed and Morrigan unusually reached out to stroke the animal’s fur as she chanted. “That should relax him a bit and allow him to gain some strength. The poison is a weak form of soldier’s bane; it drains their strength and stamina.”  
“We’ll rest here then. It’s a defensible position and Zevran will know where we are when he returns.” She turned to Alistair, “Rest, love. I’ll get some food for you.” He smiled at her and slid down the wall nearest to him, pulling off his sword and shield as he did.  
When she returned, she sat beside him and passed him the bread and cheese, noticing his smile. “What?” she asked.  
“You called me ‘love’, you know,” he pointed out as he took a bite of cheese.  
“No I didn’t.”  
“Yes, you did. I distinctly heard you say, ‘Rest, love’. Don’t deny it.”  
Brianna huffed, “It’s a common term of endearment. I hear it all the time.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“I say it to Rufus.”  
Alistair smiled bigger, “But not to me.”  
“Well…”  
Alistair put down his cheese and took her hand in his. “How far are you now?”  
“Redcliffe, just before we left for the Urn.”  
He leaned in and whispered, “Not long now.” His lips brushed hers softly and she sighed. It was beginning to seem like too long.

The Deep Roads

The dwarf had hair the color of fire, which was a good sign of his disposition, mostly bad. The only soft spot he had was for alcohol, any alcohol in any form. Brianna worried constantly that he would prove more of a liability than an asset but he claimed to know where this Branka woman was headed, so she said yes, despite what her companions thought.  
If Brianna had been worried that Oghren would corrupt Alistair, she needn’t have bothered. Alistair may have been a drunk but he was a discerning one; even he wouldn’t touch whatever it was that Oghren drank. She smiled as he turned down the dwarven warrior’s foul smelling brew for a third time in an hour. “What’s the matter chantry boy? Don’t they teach you boys anything about alcohol in that abbey place?”  
“Actually we are taught quite a bit about it, such as how to make it and what are the best things to make it from. I’m sorry to tell you but that’s not it,” Alistair replied, coughing to clear his nostrils of the odor.  
“Really? Like what?” Oghren asked, clearly curious. This was followed by an in depth conversation on the various methods of making beer, wine and various types of hard liquor. “Grain, you say? And you can use fruits? What does that taste like? I’ve had apples and peaches before but never thought to make wine out of them. Might be interesting.”  
Brianna smiled as she listened to the two warriors bond over something so simple. As they walked, Alistair eventually told Oghren the real reason why he didn’t partake of any of his offerings. “I…well, I tend to drink too much and had to stop before it got out of hand. Now I figure it’s probably better not to.” It was the first time he had said anything to anyone.  
Surprisingly, Oghren was sympathetic to his plight. “I tried that several times when I was married. Branka kept insisting, so I did. The problem was she was usually the reason I drank so you can see why the dry spells were short.” Both men laughed loud and long at the jest, even though the group soon came to realize how true it was. They continued to talk along the way about wives, wine and the reasons to drink, two nearly opposite men finding common ground. When they camped at the end of the day, the two warriors could often be found in one of two places, sparring with each other in practice or sitting by the fire talking about life.  
“So…you and the boss, huh?” asked Oghren one night.  
“She’s not really the boss, you know. We share the responsibilities,” Alistair answered.  
Oghren laughed, “Oh, I’ve seen how you two share, especially how you both disappear when you go for water. So…how is it?”  
“She’s right there, you know.”  
“I know. And if I wanted her opinion, I’d ask her. I want to know what you think about her.”  
Brianna decided it was a good idea to see what Morrigan was up to and headed to a nearby group of rocks where the witch sat working on something. Brianna was clearly in the way where she was.  
When Alistair saw she was out of earshot, he answered the dwarf’s questions. “Well, I’ll tell you the truth, Oghren, because I know you’ve been honest with me and been a good friend in the short time I’ve known you. I don’t know how she is. We’ve never done it, together, that is.”  
“Never? I would have thought by the way you two carry on that you had.”  
Alistair looked up and over at Brianna as she talked and laughed with Morrigan, “It’s been a little difficult for us. I haven’t been the easiest man to be with since she’s known me. She’s cautious and with good reason. But as for what I think about her, that I have all figured out.”  
“What?” Oghren asked.  
“I love her more than anything in this world and I’m going to marry her and make her my queen, if she’ll have me.”  
Oghren smiled, “She’d be a fool not to, son.”  
Later on, they talked of hunting and battles as Brianna sat by the fire and finished reading. She was a turning point now, for Alistair and for herself.

Redcliffe, Four Months Earlier

If Brianna had wondered if Alistair would ever return to his darker side, the incident at the Tavern had pushed him there, where he was to stay for a while. After the encounter, he had been despondent, searching for her everywhere, “...to see if she was okay. I’ve hurt her and deserve whatever punishment I get. But I had to find out if she was all right.” He had also written, “Just when I get everything I ever wanted, I throw it away. Better I had died with the other Wardens. I am no use to her now.” It was then that he had taken out the rose amulet and had repaired the chain where it had broken when Brianna had torn it off. “I will keep it as a reminder that I truly am a fool,” he said. “Perhaps someday she will take it back.”  
Alistair also wrote of visits from Wynne, Leliana and Rufus while he was holed up in his room, all to tell him what an ass he was. The latter had thrown his weight at the door and when Alistair had opened it, had growled fiercely and attempted to charge him in anger. Alistair wrote that he had said to the dog, “I’ll lie down on the floor if it will make it easier for you to tear my throat out.” Rufus had cocked his head in surprise, wagged his tail twice and left. “Even the dogs don’t want me,” he complained. Brianna was tempted to laugh but she knew that Alistair had worked very hard to build a good relationship with Rufus for her sake and the thought that it had all been for naught must have been hard for Alistair to take.  
Zevran’s visit had been a calming one for him. They had shared food and while Zevran had brought two bottles of wine with him, Alistair had not had a drop, opting for water instead. They had talked of women and life and shared stories of their own. “I am in awe of Zevran’s stubborn way of surviving. There are times that I forget that there are many who are worse off than me and he reminds me of that fact. He is a true friend.”  
When Brianna had left him behind to search for the Urn without him, he had been furious, packing extra food and potions and enlisting Rufus’ help. “Find her, boy. I know you don’t think much of me, but I have to find her.” Rufus had been more than willing, having been left behind himself.  
Half-way through the day, he had stopped for a short break in a clearing that overlooked a beautiful lake with the mountains in the background. “It was such a beautiful spot; I knew that I had been brought there for a reason. It was time to change for good. It was time to be clean.” He had quickly stripped out of his armor and clothes and stepped into the water where he scrubbed and scrubbed on his body in a ritual bath that was intended to “Scour the demons and darkness from my soul, for her sake.” He had dried himself off, dressed and doubled his pace until he found her.  
That Brianna wasn’t happy to see him, he had expected. He had not expected for her to give in and let him stay. “The greater task we must accomplish must take precedence; she knows this. I had to try to convince her.” This was followed by a blank area that Brianna assumed was the time they were in Haven. There had been little time to eat, much less write in a journal while they were there. Like the rest of them, he expressed great distaste at how the simple beliefs of Andraste had been perverted by the citizens of Haven into a violent cult. “Their end is a blessing and a pleasure,” he had written darkly.  
After they had finally left the village to its own devices, devoid of its cultist followers, Alistair had written about his experience in the Gauntlet. She had not known that Alistair had seen his own vision, as had the other members of their party. Wynne had seen a vision of her grown son, whom she had been forced to give up to the Chantry as soon as he had been weaned. Leliana had seen her mother. Alistair had seen Duncan.  
Duncan had apologized to Alistair for not taking more of an interest in his life while they were together. “He told me he should have been there for me when I needed him most as it was obvious that no one ever had.” Duncan’s message was simple, “You will be a great king, Alistair,’ Duncan said to me. ‘Stay close to her and never leave her. She is the catalyst for your success. Without her, you are lost.” It was then that he knew the direction he needed to take and who to take it with. “If I must die so that Brianna might live and end this Blight, I would gladly do so, for love of her and because it is right to do so.” Brianna hadn’t known how much he loved her until she read that passage.  
Alistair hadn’t planned on his excesses becoming his weakness. He had been so caught up in fighting at Haven that his withdrawal from the alcohol hadn’t affected him until the journey home. He had chalked it up as another hurdle to overcome and had dismissed it, refusing to give into temptation and had begun downing health potions to keep going. Once he was at Redcliffe, he had searched his room for all the beer, wine and ale he could find and had thrown it down the garderobe. It wasn’t until he was in the garden with Brianna that he realized he couldn’t go on without help.  
When he had awakened to find her in his bed, his heart had rejoiced and broken at the same time. “She knows I’m weak,” he wrote, “I’ll never be worthy of her now.” He had instead opted to merely do as he was told in regards to his health and get well. He vaguely remembered asking Brianna to stay with him as the darkness took him in the garden but he hadn’t expected her to take so much to heart. She had stayed with him nearly every minute of the days he recovered. “I do this for her now. I can’t leave her now and I won’t fail. There is too much at stake.”  
It was then that he knew what he had to do. “She has to know the truth, all of it. Perhaps if she knows, she’ll be able to understand what drives me and where I must go. There is more than love between us now and I would have it all.” With that passage written, he had torn the next page out and scribbled the note to her, leaving it tucked in the journal and placing it on his pillow for her to find. “It’s time to start at the beginning, again.”  
Brianna closed the book and held it to her chest and hugged it. It was time to start and it was up to her to make the first move. Looking over at the fire, she watched Alistair sitting next to Oghren, talking about simple things, smiling and laughing with the flamed haired warrior as he would have with his own sister, had Goldanna been worth the trouble. “Fergus would like him very much,” she thought, “And so would Mother and Father.” She looked down at the ruby ring on her left hand and pulled it off. “I will always love you, Rory,” she whispered. Kissing the ring, she placed it on her right hand then reached into her tunic and kissed the rose amulet that she had put on that morning. It was time to start at the beginning herself, again.

@@@@@

“Andraste’s flaming ass! That was too close!” panted Alistair as he pulled Brianna to her feet and pulled her into his arms, checking her for wounds. “Maker, tell me you’re all right, love!” he pleaded.  
“I think so,” she replied as she caught her breath. Brianna turned and looked over her shoulder at the pile of rubble in the chasm below, the remnants of the bridge they had tried to cross just a few moments earlier and had barely escaped. Looking across the chasm itself, she saw the figures of Morrigan and Oghren standing on the opposite edge of where the bridge had once stood, shaken but alive. She turned in Alistair’s arms, put her hands to her mouth and yelled at them, “Oghren! Is there any other way across!”  
“There’s another bridge down the way but it’s at least a day’s travel! That’s the closest one that I know about!” he yelled back in reply.  
“How much food do you have?” she asked Alistair.  
“Enough for a few days for both of us, if we’re careful. They should have enough too. Shall we meet them?” he asked.  
“We have no choice.” She turned back to her companions and yelled, “We’ll meet you there! We’ll try to stay as close together as we can while traveling!”  
Oghren had yelled his agreement and pointed them in the right direction. “It’s on your map!” he added. She nodded and waved as they set off.  
“I guess we had to learn to navigate down here by ourselves sooner or later. I was hoping later,” joked Alistair. “Coming down here is the last thing to do on my list.”  
“Last thing?” Brianna asked him.  
Alistair rolled the map and stashed it in his pack, “This is where I’ll come when it’s time to for the end. I really dread the alternative.”  
“Oh. I see what you mean.” Brianna walked on with him, keeping her senses sharpened to the area around her. “By yourself?” she asked.  
“Probably. It’s really not something you share with someone.”  
Brianna looked out over the chasm next to them as they walked along its edge. The prospect of a shortened life had not bothered her much until now. Here she was, only twenty years old, thinking about her death, knowing when it would happen. She stopped and without looking at him asked, “So you would just come here, find some darkspawn, and fight until you die?”  
“Yes,” he replied, noticing her tone had changed. He stopped and looked down at her.  
She looked up, a solemn determination on her face and something else he’d never seen before but couldn’t quite place, “I’ll come with you when you go,” she said softly and firmly.  
Alistair’s hand caressed her cheek as he looked into her eyes. “I’ll take you,” he said.

@@@@@

Alistair and Brianna continued on for a few hours, stopping once in a while to evade the occasional darkspawn group. With just the two of them, they were concerned about being overwhelmed so they avoided fighting. Brianna was pleased that the hours she and Zevran had spent working with Alistair to teach him stealth techniques had not been wasted. While he had much to learn, he was accomplished enough to successfully evade the small groups of darkspawn they encountered along their way.  
As they stopped for a meal and rest, Brianna reached into her pack and pulled out the journal, handing it to him as he sat, eating his share of the cheese and meat they’d brought. “I…finished it,” she said softly.  
Alistair’s eyebrows rose at her admission. “Finished?” The Deep Roads was not where he thought he’d be having this conversation with her, but it was as good a place as any. “You have questions.”  
Brianna thought for a moment, and then began. “Tell me about Parlan.”  
Alistair’s face became wistful as he remembered the girl. “She was a barmaid, elven, indentured to the owner of one of the taverns near the abbey. She wasn’t particularly pretty or even a talented lover. But she had a knack of saying just the right thing at the right time. And her smile lit up every room she was in. I loved her and would have married her if I could have.”  
“What happened to her?”  
He sighed sadly, “I don’t know. I could never find her. I searched and searched after I became a Warden, but I could never find her. It’s possible the Grand Cleric had a hand in her disappearance.”  
Brianna shook her head sadly and cleared her throat and he knew what was next. “You…in all your adventures I would have expected there to be men. What happened in the chapel….that’s why.”  
“Yes. And there were men at first but not after. I was young and tried anything and everything. But I like girls.”  
“Is that why you wanted to kill yourself?”  
“At first. After I’d been at the abbey long enough, I learned what the Templars were about. They’re ruthless and take whatever they want, including young naïve boys. I was taken just like so many others before me. It was wrong and I vowed to get revenge and I did.”  
“The journey to the coast?” she asked carefully.  
“Yes. Just after I had my Joining, I left the compound in the middle of the night, leaving a note for Duncan saying I had some business to take care of and would return within the week. There was an isolated training camp near Highever and I found them. I lured them into the woods and killed them, then ran back to Denerim and the Wardens.”  
“Maker!” Brianna exclaimed. “Father had the guard scour the countryside looking for the killer. They didn’t look very hard though. They were as much of a problem in Highever as the Abbey. No one mourned them.” When Alistair didn’t respond, she changed the subject. “Why did you say you were dirty?”  
“Because I was dirty, love. I did so many things and hurt so many people; you just read the highlights of it. There were so many things I did in the houses and taverns that I should have never done. I had to change. I had to be clean.”  
“So washing in the lake was your way of ‘cleansing’ yourself and starting over?” she asked.  
Alistair nodded, “I had to. For you.”  
“For me?” she asked him, her voice shaking.  
He got up from where he was sitting and knelt before her, pulling her up to meet him. Holding her face in his hands, he said, “I can’t live without you, Brianna. I love you. You’re part of me now.”  
Brianna shook with excitement, fear, love and anxiety. The feelings warred within her to the point of making her speechless. As she opened her mouth to speak, he stopped her with a kiss. When he pulled away, he said, “Don’t say anything, love. I want you, but not here. Come to me when you are ready.” He kissed her once more, stood up and offered her his hand to help her up. They picked up their packs and walked on in silence, their thoughts on each other, the future and the past.

@@@@@

Brianna sank to her knees and dropped her blades, heaving the contents of her stomach up violently onto the stone floor below her. In front on her lay Hespith, her body a globulous mess of darkspawn corruption, putrid and now decaying. Alistair hit the ground next to her, his breath coming in pants, his armor covered in what was left of Branka’s lover. She heaved again.  
“Leave her. I will tend her,” said Morrigan as she knelt down on the other side of Brianna. “See to the dwarf and clean yourself up,” she ordered, wrinkling her nose.  
Alistair looked at Brianna as she sat doubled up upon herself on the stone floor of the cavern. There were some things men just weren’t supposed to understand, he knew, but it didn’t make it any easier. He looked to Morrigan and nodded; Brianna trusted her, even if he didn’t.  
He stood up reluctantly and walked over to where Oghren sat with Rufus, who was nestled against him protectively. The dwarf had taken a heavy blow from the broodmother, knocking him down and stunning him, allowing three darkspawn grunts to attack him at will. Morrigan had quick frozen the attackers and Rufus had taken them out or he would have died. “She’ll be fine, your girl. She’s a tough one. None tougher I think,” Oghren said as he reached out to scratch Rufus’ ears. “You know, I think I might just have to get me one of these big animals. Never seen such a fierce fighter.” To Rufus he said, “Good…uh…good…warrior.” Rufus barked happily and wagged his tail.  
Alistair looked back over at Brianna and Morrigan as they sat on the stone nearby. Morrigan gave Brianna a potion to drink then cast a light spell over her. Brianna’s color returned and she nodded when Morrigan asked her question. The two women sat talking quietly for a time as she rested. He turned back to Oghren.  
“Hold still,” he said as he unbuckled the dwarf’s chest piece and pulled it off, revealing a bloody undershirt. “It looks like they got you under the arm here. I’ll need to clean it.” He handed Oghren a healing potion and began the process of cleaning the wound out. Once he had finished, he dressed it with an injury kit and helped Oghren put on his breast plate. “That should hold you. It should have some time to heal, but I don’t think that will happen for a while down here.”  
“No, not likely son.” Oghren pulled out a flask and took a deep draw. He offered it to Alistair who looked at it for a long moment before looking up at Brianna. Turning back, he shook his head. “Good choice. I made the wrong one too many times.” He put the stopper back on the flask and tucked back in his belt.  
Morrigan stood up and walked over to Alistair as he knelt by Oghren. “You may talk to her now. She is…disturbed by what she has seen here. We should move on soon.”  
“See to Oghren, please,” Alistair said to Morrigan as he rose quickly and went to Brianna.  
She was still sitting, her legs drawn up and her arms hugging her knees, swaying. Alistair stopped halfway to her and pulled off his breastplate and arm guards, still covered in Hespith’s gore, and dropped them on the floor. He closed the distance between them, wearing only his breeks, undershirt and greaves and dropped down beside her. “Brianna?” he asked quietly.  
“That’s how they….” She trailed off, her voice still shaking from the shock of what she had seen and been forced to do. Her face turned up to him, the tears falling as she grabbed his shirt and held on to him, shaking him as she pleaded, “If they come for me, please promise me they won’t get me! Kill me first! Please Alistair; promise me you’ll kill me first!”  
Alistair closed his eyes as he contemplated what she was asking him. She was asking him to kill her rather than let her be taken as a broodmother for the darkspawn. He couldn’t live with himself if she was taken and would hunt her down and kill every darkspawn who touched her. As a Warden, he also knew what the darkspawn were about, once the change had begun, there would be no stopping it; she would become a broodmother and as such would have to die.  
“Yes, love. I promise. If they take you, they’ll never keep you. I’ll follow you in death,” he answered, taking her in his arms and holding her tightly, lest they come for her now. “They’ll never take you,” he crooned softly to her as he cradled her close, “Not while I’m here.”

Orzammar

After three weeks in the Deep Roads, the four returned to Orzammar without Branka but with a paragon’s support for the new king, Bhelen. The king made short work of his rival’s supporters and those who weren’t lucky enough to escape to the surface were executed or banished to the Deep Roads or the Legion of the Dead. Bhelen made sure that his people knew he was in charge.  
His second order of business was to mass the army for surface action, even going so far as to recall the Legion troops from the Deep Roads to assist. Both Brianna and Alistair were grateful for the Legion’s help as they had proved their skill time and again in their never-ending fight against the darkspawn. Alistair thanked the king in his role as prince of Ferelden, something that Brianna had never heard or expected him to do. “Leliana and Zevran have been coaching me,” he explained. “The dwarves respect money, titles and making a good deal so I gave them a title. They can assume the wealth and I’ll let Eamon do my dealing.” Brianna had smiled and laughed at his ingenuity. He was coming along nicely in his new role.  
Bhelen gave them all rooms in the palace as a way of thanking them personally for all they had done for him. Brianna found herself in a room that was too warm but had a spectacular view of the city. She found herself standing at the window, watching the lava flow down from the vent above, providing heat, light and energy to the people of Orzammar. Her fingers came up to caress the rose amulet as it hung from its chain. She hadn’t worn it outside her clothes yet and it puzzled her why she hadn’t. It also puzzled her why she was standing in her room looking out the window when she should be with Alistair.  
He’d been more than overly patient with her. “Come to me when you are ready,” he had said. But here she was, in her own room, alone. She even knew exactly where he was at that very moment, in his room down the hall. The taint could even tell her what he felt when the feelings were strong. At this moment, there was worry, tinged with disappointment and a desperate fear of failure. He was losing hope and it was her fault. “Am I too late, Rory?” she whispered to no one. “Have I waited too long?”  
The little voice she heard in her head was barely there but readable, Rory’s voice from a time long ago on a sunny afternoon at the beach when she refused to jump into the high surf for fear of drowning. “What are you Bree? Chicken? Take a chance!” She hadn’t been then and wasn’t now.  
Brianna went to the trunk where she had stashed her clothes and pulled out a dark blue tunic and soft leather breeches and boots to put on. As an afterthought, she removed her breast bands and pulled on a soft cotton undershirt instead. She took a brush to her hair until it shined and dabbed rosewater in all the places she knew Alistair would love to smell his favorite scent. The last thing she did was pull the rose amulet out of her shirt and let it hang outside in full view. Looking into the mirror one last time, she heard the little voice again, “Maker keep you safe, my love.” She smiled and saw not the girl who loved the knight but the woman who would marry the king. “I love you, Rory,” she whispered, then turned to seek her new love and her new life.

@@@@@

Alistair paced before the window in his room, shirtless in the heat. The new king had apologized for the lack of cooler air but the ventilation system had been damaged in a recent battle with Harrowmont’s supporters and wouldn’t be repaired until the next day. Alistair was close to packing his things and heading out to sleep in Bodahn’s wagon outside the city gates when he sensed a change in the taint. Brianna.  
He wasn’t sure what made him reach out to find her at that moment but he did and what he felt surprised him. Before there had been anguish; over him, her parents, the Wardens, the war, everything. When he had told her he would wait, he had meant it and was, but he had stopped probing her. There was too much disappointment there for him and her. Brianna still had trust issues, no thanks to him. Something about her had suddenly shifted and he was at a loss to explain it.  
Thinking back, he counted the days since he had had a drink or a woman. It had been nearly nine months since he’d had a woman and six since he’d had a drink. The lack of women he was finding he could handle pretty well. He had never thought the Templar techniques of meditation and relaxation would ever work for anything other than using the talents but they worked well for celibacy too. “Thank the Maker for that,” he thought.  
Drinking was another issue altogether. As time went on, he found that every time something bothered him, he used it as an excuse to have a drink. Due to the nature of his parentage and what he did for a living, the things that bothered him increased on a daily basis tenfold. It was Wynne who had finally put it all into place for him. “Alistair,” she had asked when he unconsciously reached for the ale pitcher one night at dinner in Redcliffe, “Do you really need that?”  
“What do you mean, Wynne?” he replied.  
“Well, you have made us all aware that you intended to stop drinking alcohol. Ale would normally be included on that list.”  
Alistair looked at the pitcher in his hand. “What are you telling me?”  
“In the Tower, there would be those who would often go too far with their drinking. It is unfortunately a very common occurrence there. Too common.” She took the pitcher from him and set it down on the other side of her plate and reached for the pitcher of spring water, poured a glass and handed it to him. “The healers found over the years of study that often the urge can be better controlled if the person realizes that there is a difference between wanting to drink and needing to drink. Once that is clear, the correct course of action can be followed. So do you need the drink or do you want the drink?”  
Alistair thought for a few moments before he replied. “I think I need it.”  
“Very well. Come back when you want it,” she said and returned to eating.  
He stood at the window thinking about Wynne’s words that day at dinner and since that time, he had always asked himself that same question. The answer was always the same and he still hadn’t wanted that drink or had it. But he did want one thing and need it, Brianna.  
She was never coming to him, he feared. He also wondered if he’d pushed her too far and this was her way of running from him. He’d stopped pressing his attentions on her other than comfort since their conversation when she’d given him back his journal in the Deep Roads. It was her decision to make and he’d just force her to make one that she might regret in the end if he pushed.  
So here he stood, looking out the window at the lava fountain when the familiar twitch in the back of his head went off. Alistair turned around and followed the sense to the door. He opened it to find the rest of his life, looking up at him with her sky blue eyes.  
“Alistair...I...I wanted to…” Brianna began before Alistair reached out and pulled her into his arms and kissed her.  
“Maker!” he gasped as he kept kissing her, “Please tell me you’re staying!” He turned her around and leaned back against the door to shut it, not taking his lips from hers as he did.  
“I was afraid I was too late!” she said breathlessly, her hands running over him, trying to touch as much of him as she could. “I thought you might not ….” she trailed off, as she began to cry with relief and fear.  
Alistair kissed her tears away from her cheeks, “Never, love. I’ll always wait for you.” He looked down and saw the rose amulet hanging from her neck and smiled. “Always.”  
Brianna pulled away from him, holding him at arm’s length, her demeanor changing. “Then know this, you are my lord and my prince, Alistair Theirin. As Teyrn of Highever I swear fealty to you. You have my lands, my people, and my sword at your disposal. Command me and I shall never leave you.” She went to her knees before him, her hand on her heart.  
Alistair looked down on the woman he loved more than anything and dropped to his knees in front of her. “You will never leave me, Brianna Cousland, Teyrn of Highever. You will be my queen and rule beside me. This is my command to you.” He took her hands in his own and brought them to his lips, whispering, “My conqueror, and my savior.”  
“I love you,” she said.  
Alistair pulled her to her feet and picked her up in his arms, letting her shoot the door latch before he carried her across the room to his bed, his mouth never leaving hers as he did. Setting her down, he let his hands run all over her, checking her. “Andraste’s mercy, you’re really here!” he said, amazed as he held her.  
“And now that you have me, what will you do with me?” she asked coyly.  
Alistair chuckled deep in his throat, a sexy sound that drew Brianna in, “I’ll have to come up with something, won’t I?” He kissed her hard, trailing the kiss down her cheek to her throat. “You aren’t the only one with training, you know.”  
Brianna’s eyes popped open, “You must be joking.”  
“Try me, love. You can learn a lot of things in a whorehouse, not the least of which is how to please a woman, or a man.”  
“Now you’ve got me thinking.” She reached up and softly kissed his ear, making him moan slightly as she ran her tongue around the shell of his ear and down his neck to his shoulder where she sunk her teeth in slightly, making him gasp and moan louder. Licking the spot and sucking softly, she moved on, down his chest to his nipples, taking first one then the other in her mouth, running her tongue over them as she sucked.  
“Holy shit woman! I…” He trailed off as she worked her way back up to his mouth, taking it in her own and sucking on his lip in a mimic of how she might suck him elsewhere. His hands reached down and grabbed her tunic, inching it up slowly as the backs of his fingers grazed the skin on her stomach and chest. Brianna let go of his mouth and he pulled off her tunic and tossed it aside, leaving her standing in her thin, quite see through, cotton undershirt. “You’re not wearing breast bands? Oh Maker!” he exclaimed excitedly as she smiled and giggled.  
“I thought I should be prepared. Just in case, you know.”  
“I know now,” he said and cupped her breasts in his hands, running his thumbs over the tips as she gasped and arched her back into him. He smiled and captured her mouth again in a fevered kiss as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, making her moan. He began to tighten uncomfortably in his breeks and shifted against her, his groin coming into contact with her hips. His groan was a loud and almost painful sound.  
“Alistair? Are you okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?” Brianna asked worriedly.  
Alistair’s arms snaked around her waist as he looked down at her, still slightly wincing. “No love, it’s just….well, you see…” He took a deep breath and started again. “I haven’t done this in a while.”  
“A while? But I thought…”  
“The last time was at Redcliffe, an upstairs maid right before we went to the Circle Tower.”  
Brianna was puzzled and drew back a little from him, “What about that night at the Redcliffe tavern?”  
“Uhhh….well, while I did make a good show and tried hard enough, I couldn’t. The girl ended up falling asleep and then woke me up in the morning demanding money because I snored so loud she couldn’t sleep. That’s why I paid her. I tried to tell you but it’s a little embarrassing on a couple of levels and you were pretty mad at me. On top of that, I haven’t exactly taken care of my needs lately either.”  
Brianna’s eyes grew big as she contemplated what he’d admitted. “That was nearly nine months ago! You waited all this time? For me?”  
“Yes. And I’m afraid there are parts of me that are not prepared to wait any longer. Just so you know.”  
Brianna reached down and slowly ran her hand up his crotch from between his legs to the top of his breeks, grabbing hold of his laces at the top. “Then you should know that it’s been over a year for me and I do know something about forced celibacy and how to end it.”  
“Andraste’s sacred ass!” he exclaimed loudly as Brianna pulled the laces of his breeks loose and let her hands slowly move around the waistband, loosening them to the point of hanging on his hips. He moaned and pulled up the hem of her undershirt, exposing the skin of her stomach and back as his mouth rained kisses on her neck. Pulling the shirt up, he forced her to raise her hands above her head as he removed it, tossing it aside. He pulled her close and let his hands roam over her breasts as he watched her close her eyes and sigh with his touch. Brianna’s hands found his hair, loosened the braided queue he always wore and ran her fingers through the soft blond strands.  
Alistair moved his hands down and lifted her thighs so she straddled him as he kissed her, turning and setting her on the edge of his bed. He reached down and pulled her boots off, letting them drop to the floor, then laid her back as his mouth began to work her breasts, first one then the other. “Maker, you’re so soft, love,” he gasped as he licked her skin, tasting lightly of salt and smelling of flowers.  
Brianna reached down and pulled him up to her, “You said something about not waiting?” she half teased, half begged him. Alistair smiled and pulled the laces of her breeks, sliding them down her hips along with her small clothes to join the rest of her clothes on the floor. He stood up and removed his own breeks and small clothes, marveling at her as she watched him. “I can’t believe you are finally here,” he said, his voice betraying his emotions.  
She rose and pulled him into her embrace, “Love me, Alistair. We have the rest of our lives now.”  
He wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing her to rub against him. “I may be…rough, love. I’m sorry. I want you so much and it’s been so long.”  
“I won’t break. Please, I just want you.” He nodded and set her down on the bed as she lay back. He entered her slowly, both of them feeling the tightness as he pushed in and out until he was seated completely within her.  
“Don’t move,” he gasped, “Please, love. I want to feel you.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and held him still within her as he fought for control. Brianna grabbed handfuls of the bedclothes to keep herself from rocking her hips against him as they both reveled in the intensity of their joining. Just as she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer he began to move within her, slowly, but quickly building in intensity. Soon he was pounding into her, pulling her up to claim her mouth as he moaned. “Maker! It’s so good!”  
“Yes!” she cried as she began to climax against him, screaming his name. “Alistair! Don’t stop!”  
Alistair continued as she fell back against the bed, watching him love her as she began to peak again and they came together, calling each other’s names. He froze for a moment, still buried inside her, reluctant to pull out, savoring the feel of being inside, of having her as his own at last. Brianna feared he would collapse, he was so spent and slowly sat up to meet him, putting her arms around him tightly, holding him as he shook. “Is this what it’s like to feel at home?” he whispered with an immense sense of wonder.  
Brianna smiled, “Oh yes. The best home there is. Come, love. Sleep and I promise I’ll take you home again and again.”  
Alistair nodded and with his last bit of energy, climbed on the bed and pulled her into his arms, whispering to her as he drifted off, "Love, flooding all the creeks of my dry soul, from which the warm tide ebbed when I was born; following the moon of destiny, doth roll. His slow rich wave along the shore forlorn, to make … me, one whole." *

*“The Tide of Love” by Edmund Gosse. Nicholson & Lee, eds. The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917.

@@@@@

Alistair woke early as was his habit, before the sun would have been up. Years of chantry training and discipline had ingrained it in him to the point where he thought he couldn’t change the behavior if he tried. He had never tried for it was, like the talents, one of the few things he retained from his time at the abbey that was worth the effort to keep. He used the time to meditate and focus himself and sometimes to just wake up from the night before’s debauch.  
Early waking had one drawback in that you were the first one to see the damage of the night before. Broken furniture and torn curtains were common in many of the rooms he’d been a guest in over the years. Many times he’d found he was bruised or cut from some fool stunt he’d attempted while drunk. Most he didn’t remember but he bore the scars of them anyway. To this day, he had always made a habit of keeping himself well supplied with healing draughts and poultices.  
But the worst part of waking early was the peace and quiet. It meant he was alone again.  
Rising from the bed, he headed to the chamber pot in the corner and poured himself a drink of cool water from the sideboard pitcher, noticing that the room had finally cooled to a more bearable temperature. He gulped the water down quickly, setting the glass down on the table, and turned to the window to look out at the city.  
Brianna stirred quietly and opened her eyes, finding Alistair gone from the bed. She sensed it was early and looked to find him at the window, watching the bustle of the city below him. Reaching out with her senses, he didn’t feel quite right to her and she wondered what it meant. Silently she sat up and got out of bed, walking to where he stood, putting her arms around him and resting her head on his back. Alistair closed his eyes and sighed deeply and contentedly, a sigh of relief.  
She let go and came to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his face and drawing him down to her in a deep kiss that made him sigh even louder and clasp her against him. Slowly she trailed her kisses down his throat and onto his chest as he released his hold of her and let her have her way as she worked her way further down, past his chest and waist until she found what she sought, nestled in the blond curls between his legs.  
Taking him in her hand, she licked and kissed him until he moaned, his hands fisting at his sides, resisting the urge to grab her and hold her in place as she took him in her mouth. Working her mouth up and down, she brought him to a finish, and he gasped and sighed with his release, his knees nearly buckling. Brianna slowly pulled away, licking her lips as she looked up at him and smiled. Alistair reached down, pulled her up to his lips and kissed her hard, with a passion she had never seen, his tongue plunging into her mouth, tasting his seed on her lips and tongue. He picked her up and carried her to the bed murmuring, “Thank you, thank you,” over and over to her between kisses.  
“For what, love?” she asked.  
“For still being here,” he answered as he set her down on the bed and began to kiss her as she had him, working his way down to her sex. His tongue ran over her folds lightly as he reached his destination, causing her to gasp and moan, arching her back. Alistair began sucking her, flicking his tongue as he did while his fingers slowly entered her passage and curled upwards, intensifying the feeling. Brianna cried out his name as she came hard and fast, coming down from one orgasm only to rise again even higher on the next. When she finally came down, he lay with his head on her thigh, watching her with wonder. “You are so beautiful,” he said, moving up to lie beside her.  
Brianna let her hand trail down his cheek as she caught her breath, “I could say the same about you.” He laughed then, a joyful sound like none she had ever heard him utter and she wanted to hear it more. “Why did you thank me for still being here?” she asked softly as he pulled her closer.  
“Because in the morning, they are always gone,” he answered.  
“They?”  
“The girls at whatever house I was at. Sometimes I would fall asleep there. The madams all knew me so unless they needed the room, they left me there. If I was with a girl and she wasn’t busy we’d fall asleep together. But in the morning, when I would wake up, I was always alone. Even Parlan would be gone when I woke, off working in the kitchen or the laundry. I guess it didn’t occur to me that you would still be here. Everyone else left me.”  
“I won’t.”  
“I know. It’s irrational.”  
“I love irrational Alistair.”  
“Good. He’s going to be king. Someone will have to.”  
Brianna laughed and settled into his arms. “Seems as though I remember telling everyone we’d leave today for Redcliffe. I don’t know about you, but I have developed this terrible sniffle and just don’t feel well. I think I need another day of rest. What about you?”  
“I think I’m having some terrible bowel trouble. I’ll not be able to leave my room for at least a day and will require around the clock care from my own personal nurse.”  
“Bowels? That’s what you come up with?”  
“It works. Who would come near me?”  
“Good point. I think I feel a bit of the grip coming on myself.”  
“Oh? Is it here?” His hand found a sensitive spot underneath her arm and tickled her, making her giggle. “Or is it here?” His hand moved down to her waist and he began to poke her in the ribs.  
“Alistair! Stop that!” she cried, laughing.  
He moved over her, settling himself between her legs. “Or is it here?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.  
“Yes.”  
“I thought so,” he replied as he entered her and took them both home again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story contains possible trigger scenes for sexual abuse. Read with care.

The Road to Redcliffe Castle

“Are you sure you are both all right?” asked Wynne for a third time as they walked down the road behind Bodahn’s wagon. “You were in bed for three days and I don’t trust those dwarven healers.”  
Alistair looked down at Brianna, who had put her hand over her mouth to cough and hide a smile. He cleared his throat and looked back at the elderly mage, “I’m doing fine now and I think Brianna is too, aren’t you?” He looked back down at her, a mischievous grin on his face.  
“Uhhh…I’m…I’m fine, Wynne. Really. Thanks for your concern,” she sputtered out, looking daggers at Alistair.  
“Uh huh. Well, it seems there’s more going on here than sniffles and bowels. Very well, I’ll leave the two of you to your games. Behave yourselves.” Wynne walked on and Brianna was certain she heard her giggle a few moments later while talking to Leliana.  
Brianna smacked Alistair hard on his arm with the flat of her dagger. “Oh fine! Advertise us to the whole group!”  
“Ow! That hurt, you know! Even with a layer of steel between me and it. Besides, everyone already knows. What do you think they thought we were doing in there for three days?”  
“Well, I had hoped they might fall for some of it.”  
“Bree, Zevran stood on the street below and watched me take you up against the window in my room and everyone, and I mean everyone, heard you screaming my name when I bent you over the stair railing then let you ride me on the sofa. It’s the worst kept secret in Ferelden!”  
Brianna’s face turned red and she walked away from him, up the road, following the others. Alistair stood and watched her go, knowing he’d touched on something that they had to hash out, and hash out now. He rushed up and took her by the arm, leading her to the side of the road and holding her in place as she struggled to get away. “Let me go!” she complained.  
“Look at me,” he said softly but firmly.  
Slowly she looked up at him. “I don’t care what people think of us. I love you and I just spent the three most wonderful days of my life holed up in a hot room making love to you. If I could, I’d take you back to that room right now and we wouldn’t leave for a month. Whatever we did together and whatever we do from now on, there will be no shame, Brianna. I have had enough of that in my life.”  
Brianna watched the face of the man in front of her go from fierce warrior to tender lover in the blink of an eye. Passion ruled him and always would, and there was no turning from him now, not even if she wanted to. “I’m sorry.”  
“I made fun and I shouldn’t. It wasn’t funny to you. I’m sorry too.”  
“Seems you owe me then.”  
“I’m good for it.”  
“Yes, you are.”  
He leaned down and kissed her, softly and long, lingering on her taste. “So we tell them? Make it official?”  
She smiled, “I think you already did, but yes. Besides, you gave Oghren your tent. Where will you sleep?”  
Alistair cocked his head at her, “I was kind of hoping I could sleep with you.”  
“I don’t know…Rufus takes a lot of room.” Alistair laughed then was surprised when she asked, “Did Zevran really see us?”  
“Yes, he did.”  
“He told you?”  
“I saw him watching while we did it.”  
“You saw him! And you didn’t say anything?”  
Alistair’s voice grew husky and he took a tone she’d never heard him use, “It is…exciting to be watched sometimes, love. Very liberating. Besides, I wanted to make a point with him.”  
“What point is that?” she asked, both surprised and not a little titillated.  
He pulled her close as one of his hands reached around and grabbed her bottom so she nearly straddled him. She could feel him growing hard against her as he growled in her ear, “That you are mine now and you will stay mine. And, after lunch, we are taking a walk.”  
“Oh,” she said. “A long walk.”

Redcliffe Castle

“It seems we are nearly ready for the trip to Denerim. I have asked that the Landsmeet be called within the month.” Arl Eamon’s voice boomed through the hall as he addressed his staff and supporters in a daily meeting. “I do, however, have one disturbing piece of news to deliver. The Arl of South Reach has made an overture that I believe removes him from his status as a neutral in this conflict. He has been meeting with representatives of Loghain’s staff.”  
“Does that mean he intends to support him?” asked Alistair worriedly. South Reach had a strong army that would be of benefit in fighting the Blight as well as the civil war.  
Eamon shrugged, “I don’t know. My ‘sources’ have been unable to discover any other information beyond that. It is a serious problem if the Arl decides to support Loghain and not us.” Looking up at his staff he continued, “I believe you all have your duties. See Teagan if you have questions. You are all dismissed.” The room emptied quickly, leaving only Alistair, Brianna, and Eamon behind.  
“Father would have a fit if he knew Leonas Bryland was planning to support Loghain. They fought the Orlesians together alongside my mother and her brothers,” added Brianna, her voice angry.  
“And I would give my right arm to have your father here with me now, child,” said Eamon as he patted her on the shoulder. “Unfortunately, the Maker has a different plan.”  
“Perhaps I could be of service to your lordship?” injected Zevran, who had entered the room with Leliana. Both bowed before him in deference to his and Alistair’s titles. “Your highness,” he added slyly to Alistair, receiving a wink in return. It was timed perfectly as planned.  
“My lord, I believe you know my associates, Leliana, formerly of the Lothering Chantry and Zevran Arainai, late of Antiva,” began Alistair. “Leliana, as you may not know was once an Orlesian Bard and Zevran an Antivan Crow. Useful friends, wouldn’t you say?”  
“Useful indeed. What is your plan?” asked an intrigued Eamon.  
Leliana began, “Zevran is not known in South Reach. Let him get your information for you. I think he can ‘persuade’ the Arl to listen to reason or at least find out what he is planning.”  
Eamon looked slightly disturbed at the idea of sending an assassin to visit his old friend. He turned and faced the fire for a few moments before turning. “Very well, find out what you can. But...don’t kill him. He is still a good friend and I want the chance to confront him myself. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, my lord,” answered Zevran. “I will leave immediately.” He bowed again and followed Leliana out the door.  
“Will he be able to do it?” Eamon asked.  
Brianna spoke, “He will get what we need.”  
“Then we will leave once he returns. Now I’d better check that mountain of paperwork before Teagan drags me out to look at some other project that needs my attention. I’ll see the both of you later. Your grace, your highness.” Eamon bowed to Brianna as he would the Teyrn and Alistair as prince and took his leave.  
“I don’t know if I can get used to him doing that all the time. I spent too much doing it to him when I was brought in here to answer for some fool thing I did at one time or another. Now I outrank him. It’s scary.” Alistair shook his head with disbelief.  
Brianna laughed, “And I’m the teyrn now. Never thought I’d hear that, but it is what we are, Alistair. I guess we’ll have to get used to it.”  
Alistair nodded and a worried look came over his face as he walked out of the hall towards the front doors to the bailey. Brianna followed, curious as to what he was thinking. His demeanor had changed dramatically and she was worried. He headed for the garden just off the kitchen and found a bench in the back and sat down in the sun. “What is it?” she asked worried.  
“If South Reach does support Loghain, we’ll need something really big and surprising to get around it. I have no idea what,” he answered. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands.  
Brianna leaned back and put her hand on his back and rubbed him lightly through his shirt. He sighed and she smiled and looked up at the sky, thinking about the conversation they had had with Eamon. It brought back thoughts of another conversation they had had in the hall, just before they left for Orzammar and something else she had told Alistair.  
“Alistair? What about an alliance with a strong family or title?” she asked.  
He sat up and looked at her, “Alliance? Are you talking about a marriage?”  
“Yes. Marriage into a powerful family would give you the prestige and power of that family’s name to add to your own. It’s done all the time.”  
“And I’m supposed to just stand up in front of a priest and say yes to whomever Eamon picks just to seal the deal and become king?” No thank you!” He stood up and started pacing, clearly angry that she would even suggest it. “I expected to hear this from Eamon, Bree, but not you. Not after all we’ve shared.”  
Brianna sighed. “There might not be any other way, you know.”  
“No! I will not marry someone just to secure a throne or money or title or whatever! I don’t care if Andraste herself comes down from the Maker’s side and offers her hand in return for help. The answer is no!”  
“What if the bride were me?” she said softly as he ranted.  
“And if you think you can talk me into…what did you say?” He stopped and looked down at her as she sat on the bench looking down at the ground. She looked up into his eyes and repeated herself.  
“What if the bride were me? You asked me once if I would marry you and be your queen. I’m saying yes. You would have my lands, my armies, my people and my money to back you. I have resources that even Howe doesn’t know about, both in and out of country. They would be yours to do with as you wish.”  
Alistair reached down and pulled her up to him, holding her by the shoulders. “You would marry me? Really?”  
“I had planned on it no matter what. I just hadn’t found the right time to tell you. This is it.” She pulled out of his embrace and knelt down in front of him, taking the role of supplicant to her king. “Alistair, prince of Ferelden and rightful king, I ask that you take me, Brianna Cousland, Teyrn of Highever, as your wife and queen. I hereby give you authority over all my lands, peoples and resources. I am yours.” She reached for his right hand and kissed it where the royal ring would have been.  
“This is so not like I saw this happening,” he said, stunned and amazed as he stared down at her bowed head with its reddish brown hair shining in the sun, knowing he would never forget this moment for the rest of his life. He managed to become king long enough to say, “I will take you, Brianna Cousland, on one condition.”  
She looked up at him with blue eyes shining, “What do you wish, sire?”  
He pulled her up from the ground and kissed her hard, “That you marry me now, in the village chantry, before we change our minds.”  
“Oh yes!” she said, laughing with joy as she ran after him when he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house.  
“Teagan!” he yelled as they ran through the halls looking for his uncle. “I need you! Now!”

@@@@@

Alistair stood on the steps of the chantry, pulled his collar for the tenth time, then wiped his palms on his breeches’ legs. He glanced up the hill towards Lloyd’s Tavern, watching for Brianna and Teagan.  
“She’ll be here, son. They are always late.” Oghren stood next to him on the steps, along with Sten and Rufus, waiting for his bride. “I think it’s sort of their due, don’t you?” The dwarf was dressed simply in a shirt and breeks with a leather jerkin he had borrowed from one of the castle smiths for the occasion. He had forgone his usual drink in favor of festivities that were promised later by Teagan at the tavern.  
“I do not think the kadan will make you wait, Templar. She was most emphatic that she will be on time. It is not like her to lie,” added Sten. He had opted to wear his armor as his breeches and shirts were too threadbare to be seen, according to Wynne. She had arranged for him to visit the smithy and have the armor polished to a gleaming finish. He had been told his role was ceremonial and had bid him to watch the door to keep unwanted visitors out. He had agreed with the promise that a plate of sweets be delivered to him at the tavern later.  
Alistair was resplendent in the brown breeches and dark blue coat that Leliana had had made for him in Orzammar. His shirt had a tied cravat and was made of cream colored silk. After a quick bath, Wynne had brushed out his hair until it shown and had tied it back from his face with a dark brown ribbon, leaving the bulk of it hanging down his back. “There,” she said, punctuating her pronouncement with a kiss on his cheek. “Just how Brianna likes it.”  
Teagan had worked fast and arranged the quick ceremony for sunset at the chantry. “Eamon hasn’t a clue. He thinks you all went to the tavern for the night for some fun and that Alistair and Brianna went on a scouting mission to look for darkspawn to the west. That gives you the whole evening.”  
Leliana and Wynne had taken Alistair down to the chantry and introduced him to the revered mother, who had agreed to marry them. Alistair insisted that she be told who he and Brianna really were and the importance of keeping their identities a secret for the time being. She had agreed to keep the actual marriage certificate out of the chantry records until such time as they could reveal who they really were. For the time being, they were listed in the record as the “Grey Wardens Alistair and Brianna,” which were perfectly legal titles considering their status.  
“There,” said Oghren as he pointed to the top of the hill where Brianna could be seen walking along on Teagan’s arm. “Time to take our places.” He grabbed Alistair’s coat and tugged as Alistair watched her walk down the hill.  
“Am I doing the right thing, Oghren? Marrying her now? It wasn’t that long ago that I was a mess,” he asked, watching his bride walk down the hill towards him.  
Oghren looked up the hill at Brianna, “Cold feet, huh? That’s normal. I had them too. Looking back, I should have listened to them, but you, no. You’re going to be fine, son. Just fine.”  
Alistair looked down at his newest and now perhaps his best friend, “Think so, huh? Well, all right then. It can’t be worse than a charging ogre or a darkspawn melee, could it?”  
“That’s the spirit, boy!” He slapped Alistair on the back and held the door open for him as he entered the chantry. Taking a last look up the hill at Brianna and Teagan, Oghren sighed, “You’re going to be more than fine lad.”  
Brianna’s hands were shaking a bit and she tightened the shawl around her shoulders as she walked down the hill. Leliana had bathed and scrubbed her all afternoon, then set her in front of the window as she combed out her hair and dressed it. Piling some of it on her head and letting the rest hang down in ringlets on her shoulders and around her face. Morrigan had run to the garden and picked flowers which she fashioned into a circlet for Brianna’s hair. Leliana placed the circlet on her head to help hold her hair up.  
Her dress was a dark wine colored gown that she had had made in Orzammar. Teagan had sent for three women from the village who were delighted to remake the dress by adding a lower neck and shoulders as well as a belt and sash that Leliana had “liberated” from Arlessa Isolde’s closet using Teagan as a distraction.  
She walked down the road to the chantry now on Teagan’s arm, wondering if she was doing the right thing herself. They stopped on the steps for a moment and she closed her eyes and searched for Alistair through the taint. She found him, feeling his nervousness but his surety that he was doing the right thing. He wanted this, she knew. He wanted her.  
Alistair stood at the altar with Oghren as his second, Leliana stood for Brianna as hers. The others took places on the benches and Sten stood at the door with Rufus to guard. Brianna walked down the aisle to meet her groom and looked up at him as he stood there waiting. “Did I make you wait too long?” she asked.  
“I’ll always wait for you, love,” he answered, smiling down at her. “You look so beautiful.” She blushed and he gave her his hand as they faced the revered mother for their vows.  
Teagan handed the priest two rings when the time came, a surprise to both Alistair and Brianna as they recognized the rings when they saw them. The revered mother gasped slightly in recognition but continued on, blessing their union and their future together. As she said, “So let it be,” the little group cheered.  
Alistair gathered Brianna up in his arms and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered.  
“I love you,” she replied.  
After congratulations were given and hugs and kisses received, Alistair looked over at Teagan. He held out his hand, on which gleamed the golden ring of the House the Theirin. Brianna turned to him and held out her hand showing a flat gold ring with the Theirin crest on it, the Queen’s wedding ring. “Where did you get these?” asked a surprised Alistair.  
“The band belonged to my sister Rowan, Cailan’s mother. When she died, Maric had it sent here for safekeeping. Anora didn’t like it and wanted her own made so it remained here, to be worn by the next queen of Ferelden, Brianna,” answered Teagan.  
“And this one?”  
“That was your father’s. He always wore the ring with the royal seal so that one was rarely worn. After Rowan died, he sent it along with hers, asking Eamon to keep it for him. ‘Someday I’ll need it for something,’ he said. He was right. It’s rightfully yours, Alistair. Wear it in good health.”  
Alistair looked down at the ring on his left hand then took Brianna’s hand in his, “I will, uncle. Count on it.”  
“Now. I believe there is a small matter of a celebration planned. After which, I have arranged for fast horses and three days at Rainesfere for you and your lady, courtesy of the Guerrins. Long life to you, Prince and Princess of Ferelden.” Teagan bowed low before them as did all their companions with the exception of Sten, who reclined his head and Morrigan, who smiled slightly instead. It was a good day.

@@@@@

Brianna woke in the early morning to the sound of thousands of birds singing in the garden below. She left the bed where her husband lay sleeping and went to the balcony and looked out, listening to the songs. The sky was grey in the east as the sun was near to rising and she could hear the quiet noises of the household as they roused to prepare for the new day.  
The sound of stirring in the bed gave her reason to turn and she saw Alistair looking at her as she stood at the window, the early morning light giving her a glow. Brianna smiled and returned to the bed where he took her in and kissed her, turning her over as he entered her. She arched her back and moaned softly as he stroked into her, his mouth kissing her neck as he whispered to her all that he wished her to know. They came together swiftly and Alistair held her still, not willing to pull out of her for fear it was all just a dream.  
“What were you doing there?” he asked as he kissed her over and over.  
She smiled, “Listening to the birds singing. Don’t you hear it? It’s beautiful!”  
“I hear it every morning, love. I’m the early riser, remember?”  
“We never had birdsong like that at Highever. It’s like a concert for us.”  
Alistair laughed, “I never knew you could be so romantic, wife. I like that. It’s usually me that makes that observation.”  
“The world is a lot bigger now and I want to enjoy it all with you.”  
He rolled her over so she straddled him as he brought her down for a kiss. “Then I’ll show it to you. Every bit of it. We’ll start right here. I don’t think we’ve explored this bed nearly well enough, do you?”  
“Perhaps not,” she replied as she leaned down to meet his mouth with hers.  
“Love not me for comely grace, for my pleasing eye or face, nor for any outward part, no, nor for my constant heart, for those may fail, or turn to ill, so thou and I shall sever: Keep therefore a true woman's eye, and love me still, but know not why—So hast thou the same reason still to dote upon me ever!” he whispered to her as he kissed her. *  
“Hmmmm….I love it when you do that, you know,” she murmured.  
He smiled, “Then I’ll do it more often.”  
“I love him, I love him, ran the patter of her lips and she formed his name on her tongue and sang and she sent him word she loved him so much, so much, and death was nothing; work, art, home, all was nothing if her love for him was not first of all; the pattern of her lips ran, I love him, I love him;” recited Brianna to him as she kissed him back. **  
“Maker! Is that what it sounds like?”  
“Mm mm….yes,” she replied as she guided him inside her. “Still like it?”  
“Do it again.”  
“I will if you will.”  
“Done,” he said, and he didn’t stop until he was.

* Palgrave, Francis T. The Golden Treasury. London: Macmillan, 1875; Bartleby.com, 1999. .  
** Sandburg, Carl. Smoke and Steel. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Howe, 1920; Bartleby.com, 2000. /.

The Arl of Redcliffe’s Estate

“Calm her. If she continues in that manner, I cannot let her remain. She will become a danger to herself, to you and to all of us.” Arl Eamon fumed as he reverted to old ways with his former ward. “Please, Alistair. We need her.”  
“Of course, my lord. I’ll talk to her immediately. Give me the afternoon, if you will,” replied Alistair.  
Eamon shook his head, repressing a smile. He leaned in and spoke quietly, “Keep it down this time. There are other guests here besides just the two of you.” Alistair nodded, turning a bright red color as he bowed his head before the Arl and went in search of his wife.  
She was where he thought she would be, on the veranda overlooking the garden, pacing furiously in a haze of anger. Alistair signaled a maid to bring them some food and drink, then shot the latch and removed his armor and weapons, setting them on the stand by the door for cleaning. He removed his boots and padded shirt, walked to the door and leaned against it, arms crossed, watching her pace.  
Brianna was furious. They hadn’t been in the house for an hour when Loghain had called with his second, Ser Cauthrien and Rendon Howe, begging for a quick end to the turmoil in the government and support for Anora’s rule. Eamon had been quick to point out that he could not forgive the obvious involvement of Loghain and Howe in his poisoning and the massive death it had caused. Loghain had called Brianna a “stray” but had acknowledged Alistair as Maric’s son, a point that was definitely in their favor. Brianna had asserted her claim as the last surviving Cousland to the teyrnship of Highever and demanded blood rights.  
It had taken all she had to keep from killing Howe on the spot. Alistair and Morrigan had looked at each other and stepped up to her sides. The air had crackled as Morrigan had called on her power in preparation for Brianna’s defense. Sten had gone to the extra step of drawing his sword, holding it at the ready and stepping in front of her and the Arl to block anything that might get to them. Arl Eamon’s hand had been poised on the dagger he wore at his hip and the hiss of blades being removed from their scabbards by his guard was hard to miss.  
Loghain had backed down quickly and was escorted off the grounds by the Arl’s troops. Alistair could not have been more pleased with his beautiful warrior wife but he knew that the pressure of keeping her feelings buried inside for months was taking its toll. Revenge was so close that she could taste it and she was desperate for it, but the cost of that revenge might be more than she could pay. Alistair had to do something.  
When she didn’t stop pacing, he put out his hand and stopped her, taking her hand and leading her back into their room. He slowly removed her weapons and armor, placing them on her weapons stand, then removed her boots and padded shirt, leaving her wearing her breeks and undershirt. A knock at the door signaled the return of the maid with food and drink. Alistair thanked the girl and shot the bolt again, taking the food to the bedside table. Returning to his pacing and fuming wife, he took her by the hand and led her to the bed where he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly while he began to remove her shirt.  
“You do know that there are times when sex is not the answer for a situation, don’t you?” she asked annoyed.  
“There are? Huh. So all this time when I wanted to show my wife that I love her and am proud of her by making love to her, I should have been kicking her in the ass? I can do that.” He promptly raised his foot and kicked her in the behind, knocking her off balance.  
Brianna whirled around, her blue eyes blazing red. “Why you….” She raised her hand to strike out at him, only to find her wrist locked in the grip of his fist. Instead, she raised her foot to kick him between the legs and he whirled her around, holding her with her back against him.  
Alistair twisted her arm behind her and she tried to stomp on his foot. He twisted the arm harder and she cried out. “Stop it now, Brianna,” he commanded. “You will listen to me and then I’ll let you go to do whatever you want. But you will listen first, understand?” Brianna nodded. “You have to stop, love. Eamon can’t do what he plans if you keep going off half-cocked every time we have to meet with someone you hate or blame for your misfortune. I promise you that no one wants to help you more than me but I can’t do it if you won’t listen. Do you understand?”  
Brianna nodded her agreement and he released her. She stepped away quickly and turned back to him, the anger still evident in her face and demeanor. Alistair stood there watching her, expecting her to run when she jumped into his arms, kissing him furiously and tearing at his shirt in her haste to undress him. He felt himself grow hard instantly and heard the cloth tear on his shirt as she ripped it off his shoulders. “Okay…” she panted in his ear as she bit and kissed his neck, “Maybe I’m wrong this time.”  
“Everyone should admit their mistakes,” he teased as he pulled off her shirt and breast bands and threw them aside, then pushed her down on the bed. They furiously pulled the laces of their breeks and smallclothes and shucked them before he climbed between her legs and shoved into her, both of them moaning as he did.  
“Maker! Alistair!” she screamed as he pounded into her, her orgasm ripping through her whole body. “Don’t stop! Please!”  
Alistair continued until she peaked again and he groaned loudly, “Maker yes!” as he came, collapsing to the bed, pulling her on top of him. They stayed there for a while, holding each other as they returned to the present.  
“Bree, love? Are you all right? Really all right?” he asked after a while, stroking her hair and holding her closer.  
“I don’t know. Seeing him today…it just brought it all back again, the attack, Oriana, Oren, Mother and Father. I want justice, Alistair, I want him dead!” Grief tinged her voice and it shook with anger. “I don’t know what to do! Help me!” She began to shake.  
Alistair turned her in his arms and looked into her eyes. “I swear on my life, Brianna. I will get justice for you. Howe will pay for what he has done to your family and mine.” He kissed her then and pulled her closer, holding her tight. “I swear,” he whispered to her, “I will.”

@@@@@

Standing in Eamon’s study the next morning listening to a skinny elf girl tell them an outrageous story about Anora being Howe’s prisoner was enough to make Alistair double over in laughter if the Arl hadn’t given him that look he used to give when Alistair was a child acting up at the dinner table in the hall on one of the few times he’d been allowed to eat there.  
“You must help her, my lord. Please!” cried the maid.  
“Now, now, girl we will discuss this. For now, my steward will see that you have a room prepared where you can rest and food will be sent to you.” Eamon motioned a grey haired man from his station by the door, “Albert, if you will.”  
“Come this way, miss,” said the steward and led the distraught maid out of the room, shutting the door behind him.  
Alistair burst out into gales of laughter that were followed by Brianna’s giggle and smile. “You can’t seriously be thinking we should be helping her?” he asked, still laughing.  
Eamon smiled and mustered a laugh himself. “No, but I wanted you to hear it. She is either an exceptional actress or is telling the truth. I just don’t know which.”  
“Perhaps Leliana could be of use here. Her bardic skills might be able to ferret out the truth from the girl without the girl knowing she has been ferreted,” suggested Brianna.  
“An excellent idea, my dear. I’ll have her tell the girl she is in charge of her care. In the meantime, we should plan an expedition to the place. Who do you want to take with you?”  
“Zevran and Leliana for sure. Their rogue skills are invaluable.” She looked over at Alistair, “You are awfully loud though.”  
“What do you mean I’m awfully loud?” he asked annoyed.  
Brianna shook her head at her husband, “You wear a hundred pounds of metal that clangs, love. There is no way to make it stop. You are too loud for sneaking around.”  
“So I’ll wear my Dalish armor and watch my weak side more. It’s quiet and light.”  
“I would much prefer that Alistair not participate in this mission. You are too valuable and well known since you have declared for the throne,” said Eamon.  
Brianna’s eyes grew wide, “You declared what?”  
“I was going to tell you, love. I had Eamon send the Landsmeet my official declaration of intention to contest Anora’s claims to the throne. It went out this morning to all the noble houses of the Landsmeet.” Alistair waited for her reaction to his bombshell.  
“Just when were you going to tell me about this?”  
“I’m telling you now.”  
“I see,” she said quietly.  
“Perhaps I should excuse myself,” said Eamon as he made for the door.  
Brianna put her hand out to stop him. “No. It’s all right. Better now than in my mail later. As teyrn, you sent me one too. What’s next?”  
“Let’s find out what this Erlina knows then decide on the next course of action. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Eamon bowed and left them alone in the study.  
Alistair went the sideboard and poured himself a glass of water, gulping it fast as he felt his wife’s eyes on him. He sighed and turned around to face her.  
“So when were you going to tell me and why did I have to hear it from Eamon?” she asked bluntly.  
“You already knew, Brianna. You’ve known I wanted the throne since before we went to find the Dalish. I just made it public,” he answered.  
“So the fact that I’m your wife means nothing in this situation as does the fact that I’m your commander?”  
“Co-commander and it means everything. The time was perfect for it. There will be no surprises for anyone other than what we bring with us, the proof of Loghain’s treachery and Howe’s support and involvement in it.” He reached for her and put his hands on her shoulders, “It’s how we get our revenge, love.”  
Brianna stepped out of his grip and walked to the window that overlooked the city below. “You know there is no turning back now, don’t you? You are either king or not.” She turned to him, “If you are not, then the chances are good that you will be dead.”  
“I know.”  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Opening them she looked up into Alistair’s eyes, “So we go to the Deep Roads in Denerim then. Okay. I just wanted to make sure you understood that.”  
“I love you, wife,” he said.  
“I love you, husband and king,” she replied.

@@@@@

Leliana’s persuasiveness was just the ticket for making the maid Erlina tell them everything she knew about Anora’s motives and her reasons for being at Howe’s estate. In the end, it was decided that Anora was safer out of Howe’s hands than in them and an escape was planned in two days. Erlina was to provide guard uniforms for them to wear to hide their identities. Brianna felt there was only one flaw in the plan, Alistair.  
As the possible future king of Ferelden, he could not risk his life on a mission to save his rival no matter how brave and noble it looked. He was too well known now. Brianna had to find a way to keep him out of it somehow. It would take some clever maneuvering and she knew just the man to do it.  
“My lord? May I see you?” she asked the Arl as he sat at his desk reading.  
“Of course, my dear. What can I do for you?” he asked.  
Brianna shut the door behind her and looked around the room for her husband. “It’s about Alistair, my lord. I don’t want him to come with us when we go get the queen.”  
“I see. It is my wish too, but he is adamant and stubborn about it. It is the one thing about him that I had hoped the chantry would change. What do you want to do?”  
“I wish to move the escape up one day to prevent anyone from trying to stop it. The surprise will be doubled if it is not at all when any spies might suspect it to be. Moving the day up would also allow for a suitable diversion to be created keeping Alistair busy while I lead a group into the estate. I was hoping you could provide that distraction.”  
“I think I can find something to keep him busy. When would you be leaving?”  
She thought for a moment. “Early afternoon, I think. Zevran says security is most lax then.”  
“Then I will persuade Alistair to accompany me to visit some of our supporters. Let them meet him and see for themselves. It is time he was out and about some, even if only in private homes.” Eamon put his hand on her arm, “You will be careful, my dear. I would not like to have to tell Alistair that the woman he loves has died doing something I asked her to do. I have had enough of that lately to last a lifetime.”  
Brianna put her hand on the Arl’s and squeezed. “I will, my lord. And when I return I hope you will forgive the disruption of your household. He will be very angry with me for leaving him behind.”  
Eamon laughed. “It is a deal.”  
The next day, Alistair stood in front of the mirror in their room, shaving while Brianna combed and brushed out his hair. “Ow! Careful, love. I’ll look funny going to this meeting with half a lip.”  
“Oh stop whining. Besides, you have more tangles in your hair than anyone I’ve ever seen. What have you been using to wash with?” she asked him as she ran the brush through his hair, and then plaited it neatly in a queue.  
He wiped his razor on his towel and looked back into the mirror, “That white stuff we use on our clothes. It works great. Never seen anything that gets darkspawn blood out better.”  
“Ugh! Alistair! That’s nearly pure lye! You are only supposed to use it when you have darkspawn blood on you and not any other time. Use the brown soap next time for your skin and the stuff in the bottle is for your hair. It’s time to learn to take care of your looks, husband. You will be king soon.”  
“Fine,” he said, turning and kissing her on the cheek, smearing her face with shaving soap. “Lovely,” he laughed, admiring his handiwork.  
“Yuck! At least you use something decent to shave with,” she replied as she wiped her face on his towel.  
“So I’m not totally hopeless,” he said as he finished shaving and washed his face and dried it, then turned to look at her. “How do I look?”  
“Who trimmed your beard?”  
“Zevran and Leliana did it with uninvited help from Morrigan. They were looking for you and caught me with the scissors about to commit a horrible desecration they said. Zevran did my beard and Leliana my hair while Morrigan bossed and whined.” He turned back to the mirror, “They did a nice job.”  
Brianna looked around his shoulder into the mirror and marveled at the change in him. He had come so far in the past year. When they had met he was lost in a haze of alcohol, depression and women but now he stood before her, one step away from being king. “The handsomest man I ever knew,” she told him, her eyes going smoky as she admired him.  
Alistair turned and took her in his arms and kissed her, the passion building between them. “Maker, I want you and I have no time. Promise me you’ll be here when I get back.”  
“I’ll try,” she said, and held him tightly, knowing that making love would be the last thing on his mind when next they met. “I promise, love.”

The Arl of Denerim’s Estate

Eamon had used his influences with the local guilds to create a suitable diversion by having several guildsman show up and demand payment from Howe for services they had provided. They were able to walk past the crowd wearing their borrowed uniforms without any resistance.  
Brianna was a little wary of Erlina’s easy going manner as she walked through the house. While the other elven servants were being constantly yelled at and ordered about, she just breezed past as if she were the mistress, something that wasn’t lost on Zevran or Leliana either. “This is too easy,“ Leliana hissed. She leaned in to Zevran and whispered in his ear and he nodded. As he looked up at Morrigan, Brianna saw the witch nod and felt her call upon her power in anticipation.  
The group worked their way through the estate grounds until they reached a room just off the main entrance. The door was glowing blue as if enchanted. Morrigan examined the spell and shook her head. “A powerful ward. Whoever put this up must bring it down. I believe we have found her.”  
The queen was indeed secured behind the glowing door and after a brief discussion, was able to tell them that the mage and Howe had gone to the dungeons below and that they had left only a short time ago. “Go and find them, Warden.”  
“Go Warden, I will remain with my lady until you return,” said Erlina. Brianna nodded and led the way down the hallway in the direction of the dungeons. As she left, she could hear Anora and Erlina conversing in Orlesian.  
“Leli, what did she just say to the maid?” Brianna asked.  
Leliana listened for a moment and her eyes grew wide and then narrowed. “Erlina asked Anora what will happen to us. Anora said, ‘Howe will deal with her.’ Maker’s breath, it’s a trap, Bree! We must retreat.”  
Brianna looked at Zevran, “What do you think? Should we go back and get Alistair and more help?”  
Zevran smiled, “While your handsome husband is both charming and clever, I don’t think he’d be much help here unless they attacked us with a division of troops. Remember that the first rule of a trap is knowing of its existence, my dear. Let’s keep going and see what comes up. I think I can get us out of here quickly if need be.” Morrigan nodded her agreement and the four of them continued on down the hall.  
Making their way to Howe’s bedchamber, they located a chest with the insignia of the Grey Wardens on it. “They are enchanted. Only a Warden can open it,” she told them. She opened her pack and stuffed the box inside before moving to an open door that was normally hidden behind a tapestry.  
A stairway led down and opened into a room that held cells and several large racks and implements of torture. A lone guard was standing in front of one of the cells. As the man looked up and saw them, a hand reached out from the cell and grabbed his neck, twisting it violently to the left until it cracked. The hand searched the dead man’s belt and pulled the keys from a hook, opened the door then pulled the body inside.  
Brianna drew her sword and watched as the man inside the cell donned the guard’s armor and weapons. “Thank you for the distraction, I had begun to doubt I would ever get the opportunity. I am Riordan of the Grey Wardens and you are Warden Brianna, are you not?” His accent was slightly Orlesian but he spoke the common tongue as a native would.  
“Yes, I am. Have you brought troops to help us?” she asked, hopeful  
“There is a large force massed just over the border with two hundred Wardens but we were turned back at the border. I was sent to investigate since I’m a native.” Brianna could see he was exhausted and ill.  
“You need to get to a healer. Go to Arl Eamon’s estate, just off the Market District.” She pulled off her rose amulet and gave it to him. “Give this to Warden Alistair and tell him I said to see to your care. He will know what it means.” She opened her pack and handed him the Warden chest. “I think these are yours.”  
“I will do that and thank you. Maker keep you. Howe and his men are expecting you, my dear. Be careful,” Riordan told her.  
As he turned to leave, Brianna stopped him with her hand. “Riordan, please tell Alistair….tell him I am sorry.” Riordan looked down at the hand that lie on his arm and saw the royal wedding band that shone there. Understanding crept into his tired eyes and he nodded, patting the hand before heading up the stairs to the bedroom above.  
“You did not tell Alistair you were coming here today?” asked Morrigan. “Why? You share everything with him.”  
“I did not tell him because I want him to live. I am expendable and he is not. Let’s go,” she replied quickly, not wanting to have the discussion. Leliana and Zevran looked at each and shrugged but followed her down the stairs into the lower dungeon.

@@@@@

Oswyn had been tortured and was tied to a rack, bloodied and beaten. Brianna and Zevran released him while Morrigan did what she could to heal him. “Who sent you?” the man asked.  
“I’m here for Arl Eamon and myself. I am Brianna Cousland, Grey Warden and Teyrn of Highever. You are Oswyn, aren’t you? I think we met once,” Brianna told him.  
“Yes,” he said weakly. “I spoke out against Loghain’s treatment of the alienage elves and others and this is what I got. How do I get out of here?”  
Zevran took the man and showed him where to get out. “Thank you. I will see that you have my father’s support for all you’ve done.”  
As they walked on down the hall, Brianna began to notice a prickly feeling in the back of her head. It was a nagging feeling that something was wrong, very wrong, and it was getting worse as she went along. “We had better get out of here fast. I just don’t feel right down here.”  
At the end of the hall she found the reason for her feeling. Her enemy waited for her, surrounded by warriors, bowmen and mages, ready for her. “So, Bryce and Eleanor’s little spitfire, all grown up. I was hoping for the chance to make up for not getting you sooner but you seem to have a way of escaping. Not this time, girl. I will enjoy breaking you myself. Take her.”  
Howe’s minions attacked immediately and without discretion. Most were aiming for Brianna so Zevran took position in front of her as she shot her bow and took out the mages and bowmen. Leliana took out the warriors as Morrigan cast spells to disorient and drain their health. Soon all that was left was Howe himself. Brianna dropped her bow and began to slowly circle him, daring him to attack her. “Take your shot,” she said calmly.  
He struck out at her but she dodged to the side quickly, whirling around to hit him with her dagger. Howe groaned at the wound she inflicted and brought his sword down at her left arm. She spun again, hitting him on the back of the head with the flat of her blade and stunning him. Howe went to his knees. “Zevran,” Brianna ordered.  
The assassin stepped forward and grabbed a handful of Howe’s hair and yanked his head back, exposing his neck and forcing him to look up at Brianna’s face. “Look at her, pig. Watch yourself die in her eyes,” Zevran said coldly.  
Brianna pulled out a dagger that she had kept in her belt for the last year and had never used. “Remember this? It was my father’s, one that you gave to him on Feastday. He carried it with him until he died as a token of a friend. I use it now to cement that friendship and give him justice.” She took the dagger and drew its razor sharp edge slowly and hard over Howe’s throat as he gasped and gurgled. “For Father, Mother, Oren, Oriana, Fergus, and Rory, with love,” she said as she finished the knife’s draw and watched Howe hit the floor in front of her, gurgling and sputtering his last. She stood there a moment, staring down at Howe’s body, then closed her eyes and let out a breath. Looking up at her companions, she said, “Let’s get out of here.”  
When they reached the queen’s quarters, they found her dressed in armor as a guard to hide her identity. “Shall we go, Warden?”  
“Yes,” she replied curtly, leading the way to the front doors. There was no reason to hide anymore. Ser Cauthrien stood at the door with over a dozen men, all armed and ready. “Get her out of here, Leliana! Now!” yelled Brianna as she drew her swords to fight.  
Zevran and Morrigan came to her and made ready to fight as Leliana grabbed the queen’s arm and pinned it to her side, “I can stop them! Let me go!” cried Anora. Leliana drug her out of the way and towards the side entrance to the kitchens, leaving her friends behind.  
“Surrender, Warden. You are outnumbered and there is nowhere you can go,” Cauthrien told them.  
“I will surrender if you will let my companions go,” Brianna bargained.  
“No! That was not the plan!” exclaimed Zevran. “You must not, amour.”  
Brianna looked over at Zevran and Morrigan, “Get me out and tell Alistair I love him. Now run! That’s an order!” She dropped her swords and bow to the ground and walked forward, her hands up. She could hear the sound of running feet behind her and knew they had gone.  
“You are wise, Warden,” said Cauthrien, “You are under arrest for the murder of Arl Rendon Howe.” To the soldiers nearest her she said, “Bind her.” One of the men tied her hands together as Cauthrien circled her, “Take her to the fort.” Brianna grunted as the ropes were tightened around her wrists then felt a pain in the back of her head just before everything went black.

@@@@@

Alistair stared down at the amulet in his hand, his mind racing to all the possible conclusions as to why he was holding it now. “She gave this to you?” he asked, stunned.  
“Yes, your highness. She also said I was to tell you to see to my care,” answered Riordan.  
“Where is she now?” Alistair asked quickly.  
“I last saw her in the dungeon of Arl Howe’s estate here in Denerim. She had three others with her, a dark haired elf, a red haired woman and a mage.”  
Alistair began to pace in the sitting room before he turned back to the Warden in front of him. He went to the door and opened it, calling out to a servant in the hallway, “Have Mistress Wynne see to this man’s injuries, give him a room and food immediately, please.” The servant bowed and ran to do his bidding. He turned back to his guest, “Please sit Riordan and call me Alistair. I’m still just that for now. Can I get you something?”  
Riordan sat and shook his head. “I’ll wait for the healer first.”  
“Of course. If you will excuse me, I have to see the Arl immediately about this. Wynne will make you comfortable.” He turned to leave and Riordan could see the anger building in the young Warden’s eyes.  
“Alistair,” Riordan said, as Alistair pulled the door latch, “She wanted me to tell you she was sorry.”  
Alistair closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as the anger channeled through him. “Thank you,” he said and closed the door behind him. A few seconds later Riordan heard a sound like thunder roll through the house, “EAMON!”

Fort Drakon Prison

Brianna felt the cold from the stone floor seep through her shirt and breeks as she came to. She slowly rose and shook her head, allowing her vision to focus before she tried standing. The back of her head hurt and she felt nauseous, both signs of a concussion. She made a mental note to smash Cauthrien’s head against the nearest wall the first chance she got.  
“You all right, miss?” came a voice from the next cell.  
She looked up and saw a tall man with golden hair, standing at the bars, watching her. She struggled to her feet and made her way to the bars. “Where am I?”  
“Fort Drakon prison, dearie. This is the wing they call the ‘Traitors Wing.’ It’s where they keep the worst of the worst. I never thought to see anyone like you up here. What did you do?” asked the man.  
“I’m a Grey Warden.”  
“Under the circumstances, I’d say that’s dangerous enough for here. You have my respect for your order, that’s for sure. I’m Robert but they all call me Rob. I’m afraid I got into a fight with the wrong man a few months ago and here I am. Bastard cheated me at cards and wouldn’t admit it so I hit him. He pulled a knife and gave me this scar and I pulled mine and sent him to the Maker. Turns out he was one of Loghain’s close allies. So here I am. They’ve been checking on you regular, you know.”  
Brianna looked up and watched the guards as they talked over by the main cellblock doors. “I figured they would. They want to talk to me.”  
“They’re coming,” warned Rob as he made for the other side of his cell.  
Ser Cauthrien and four men approached the cell door and opened it. “Bind her,” said Cauthrien. Two of the men tied her hands together tightly while the other two stood by the door. “Bring her.”  
“Move,” said one of the guards, pushing Brianna along. They led her to an isolated room off the cellblock, pushing her into the room and shutting the door behind her. In front of her stood a large heavy wooden frame with ropes attached, a table with several different types of tools and implements, a mage, two brawny men in simple clothes and heavy leather belts and Loghain.  
“Ahhh…your grace. So pleased to meet you again. Do come in, won’t you,” he sneered. His hand came up and signaled to the men, who came forward and yanked her to stand in front of the wooden frame. “Do make yourself comfortable, dear.” He signaled again and the men untied the ropes that bound her hands. She began to struggle and they forced her to submit, tying her hands and feet up with the ropes from the frame until she was effectively held in place, nearly hanging on the frame.  
“What do you want, Loghain?” she asked.  
The teyrn stepped forward and looked at her closer. “I merely wanted to talk to you. Ask you some questions, if you will.”  
“Then ask them.”  
“What are your plans?”  
“I should think that would be obvious. I want to usurp your power and place Alistair on the throne instead of your daughter. Oh and of course, you will have to pay for your part in the deaths of Cailan, the Wardens and the thousands who died at Ostagar. Did you forget so soon, your grace?”  
Loghain slapped her with the back of his hand, “Do not presume to tell me what I did, woman! I did what I had to do to save my country just as I have always done. What would you know about that living in your gilded castle?”  
“I believe I answered your question,” she hissed as she spat blood at his feet.  
“Soften her up,” he said to the mage. The man nodded and signaled to his assistants. Both men came forward and began to stroke their hands up and down Brianna’s body, feeling her curves and squeezing her breasts. She cried out as one of them reached up and yanked her shirt, causing the material to tear off her body. The other took out a dagger and cut the ties to her breeks, slitting them up the side before tearing them off. She soon hung before them, wearing only her smallclothes.  
Loghain paced in front of her, then signaled the men to step back. “Beautiful,” he said. “I see what Alistair sees in you.” His hand ran down her stomach as she closed her eyes in revulsion. “So soft.” He leaned in closer to her. “Tell me what evidence Eamon has against me.”  
“I do not know,” she said.  
The fist that hit her was sharp and hard, snapping her aching head back hard. “Yes you do! Tell me what evidence he has against me!”  
“No,” she spat.  
He signaled the men again and they moved in. Both of them had daggers that they used to cut her breast binding and smallclothes off, leaving her naked. Tears of shame began to fill her eyes but Brianna refused to shed them. At a second signal, the men began to run their hands over her body, squeezing and tormenting her. Fingers began to massage her folds and one of them found her clit and began to rub it vigorously. The other put his head down and licked and bit her breast as his fingers pinched and squeezed the other. Brianna cried out in anger at the intrusion and violation.  
Loghain laughed as he watched her, “I can make them stop or would you rather they continue, my dear?”  
Brianna sobbed out her answer, “No! I don’t know anything! Please stop!”  
“I believe you do know and I will let them continue until you tell me what I want to know!” he yelled. She continued to cry out as he looked down, “Oh, so wet, like the whore she was taught to be, aren’t you? You think I don’t know about your ‘training?’ Tell me, did you use your wiles on that drunken whoreson prince? He must not have been much of a challenge for you, was he?”  
“I’m going to fucking kill you myself Loghain!” she screamed.  
Loghain laughed at her, “I think not.” Looking over at the mage, he ordered, “Do it.”  
The mage called his power and stood in front of her, his fingers sparkling with electrical energy. Brianna’s eyes grew wide as she saw him. The assistants reluctantly moved aside to make room for the mage, who reached out and touched Brianna’s breasts with his hands. The energy pulsed and filled her body, not enough to shock but enough to put her on edge. His hands moved down her stomach, caressing her skin as the energy flowed through him. Brianna began to moan as she was pulled into a realm of pleasure like she had never felt before.  
“That’s it, moan for me. Let me see you come as only a Cousland whore can,” crooned Loghain into her ear as she moaned louder.  
The mage’s fingers reached her sex and lightly glided over her clit, causing her to jump violently and cry out, “I’ll fucking kill you, bastard!”  
“That’s no way to treat a man who’s giving you pleasure, love,” chided Loghain. “Tell me what I want to know and I will make him stop and let you go.”  
“NO!”  
The mage took the answer as license to continue and began to run his finger back and forth across her nub. Brianna bucked and jumped, moaning in pleasure and anguish with no control over her body’s reactions. When the mage took his finger and pushed it into her, she screamed as she climaxed hard and long, her tears streaming down her face. When she had finished, the mage withdrew and Loghain signaled to the assistants to take her down.  
He opened the door and Cauthrien entered, “Put her back in her cell for now. I will want to talk to her later. See that no one molests her. She is mine alone.” Cauthrien picked up a blanket and put it around Brianna to cover her and led her back to her cell.  
“Lie down. The effects will wear off in a while,” she said. “Next time, tell them what they want to know. It goes a lot easier then.” With that, the knight shook her head and left Brianna lying on the straw bed, sobbing and shaking.

Arl Eamon’s Estate

Alistair had never needed a drink so badly in his life. He’d nearly thrown everything he ever wanted away once and he couldn’t do it again, no matter if it was wise or not. Eamon continued to lecture about duty to the country and choices that had to be made to insure that he could do his duty.  
“Enough! I don’t care about duty and honor and who’s expendable and who isn’t! That doesn’t matter now, does it?” Alistair yelled. He turned to a visibly cowed Anora. “You knew about this, didn’t you? What would happen if we mounted a rescue? And you sent your maid anyway with no concern as to who would be hurt in all this!”  
Anora tried to defend herself, “Alistair, I knew that Howe suspected you would try to come and get me. Believe me; I wanted to keep her out of danger as much as you but…”  
“But you did it anyway. Well, your highness, it’s gotten you out but the cost is much dearer and worth more than you alone in my book.” He turned to the guards by the door, “Take the queen to her chambers along with her maid. No one is to see her without my knowledge. Is that clear?”  
“Yes, your highness,” said the guards. Anora opened her mouth to speak but closed it again at a look from Eamon. She silently followed the guards out of the room, Erlina following.  
Alistair turned to Zevran, Leliana and Morrigan next. “So what next?”  
“The queen is correct that they took her to the fort. That is where Loghain is keeping his personal prisoners. I saw Ser Cauthrien take her there myself not long after we left.” Alistair nodded and turned away, looking at the side table and its supply of wine and whiskey. The urge was stronger than ever. “And I believe she was unconscious at the time. They were carrying her.” Alistair’s head snapped back to the elf.  
“Torture?” he asked, knowing the answer already.  
“No doubt. I have worked with Brianna to prepare her for what might come in case of this. She asked me to some months ago. She is aware of ways in which to slow down her reactions and prolong her resistance. But she is a novice, mi amigo, she will not last long. We must get her out now.”  
Morrigan looked at Alistair, “A jailbreak is the term we are searching for. Perhaps some diversions and lies would suffice to get us in.”  
“I think I know just how to get you, me and Zevran in. But Alistair will require a different type of lie and a disguise,” remarked Leliana as she smiled a sly smile that brought out matching ones from the three of them.  
“What do I do?” asked Alistair.  
“No! You will not go and mount a rescue! You are a prince of Ferelden, Alistair, not a common thief or criminal. You will send Sten or Oghren instead,” demanded Eamon.  
“You want to be king? Fine. You will be king, Eamon. I’m done. I’ve spent all my time doing what you and everyone else wants me to do and ignored the one thing I shouldn’t have, my wife.” When Eamon’s eyes opened in surprise, Alistair smiled, “Yes, that’s right, my wife. Brianna and I married in Redcliffe two months ago. Teagan, Leliana and Oghren were witnesses. The certificate is on file in the chantry in Redcliffe Village if you care to check. So I hereby name you my successor and regent so go away and rule something.” He turned back to his companions. “What do I do?”  
Leliana smiled, “First, you need to be a brunette…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story contains possible trigger scenes for sexual abuse. Read with care.

Ft Drakon Prison

“Good evening, gentlemen, we are here to see Captain Reneaux, if you please,” announced Zevran. “I believe he is expecting me. I am Senor Gireaux, purveyor of fine Antivan imports.”  
“Senor Gireaux? What type of imports?” asked the sergeant on duty.  
“Can you not see? Fine women, practiced in the arts of seduction and sex. May I present Senoritas Bonita and Giselle.” Morrigan and Leliana smiled at the man and ran their hands over his arms. “The captain will be very upset if I miss our appointment you see.”  
The sergeant couldn’t take his eyes off the two women in front of him as they ran their hands over his arms, “Uhhh…yes. Yes! Of course!” He opened the gate and pointed up the hallway. “Third floor, left hallway, last door on the left.”  
“Thank you, amigo. Come my beauties, there is work to be done,” Zevran called. Morrigan and Leliana smiled again at the sergeant and followed Zevran into the fort.”  
“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Alistair. “He did it. I’ll never live it down if I don’t.” He waited the agreed time for the others to scout and take their places then proceeded up to the door with his bundle, tied to a large stick.  
The sergeant was wary when he saw him approach. The ragged young, dark haired man looked out of place there. “State your business!”  
“I’m delivering a package from the Tailor’s Crafthall,” Alistair explained.  
“There’s nothing on my sheet about a delivery today,”  
Alistair sighed, “Look, I’ve got four more deliveries today. Who’s in charge? I’m sure he’ll want to know that you’re holding up his work.”  
“Oh sod it. Go on in. Take it to the main hall. I’ve got better things to do than talk to idiot delivery boys. Join the army and amount to something lad.”  
“Uhhh…okay. I’ll do that sometime. Thanks for the advice.” He entered the hallway and took off for the main hall, taking the stairs by twos in his hurry. She was here and he could feel her.  
At the top of the stairs, he headed down the left hallway to the last door and entered. Zevran was finishing tying up the captain while Leliana and Morrigan shed their cloaks. “About time you got here, fool.”  
“Shut up Morrigan,” Alistair said as he tossed her the staff then undid the bundle he carried to reveal their armor and weapons. They quickly put them on and readied themselves for the next part. “We need to get going. I feel her but she’s weak. They may have already gotten to her.”  
“Where is she?” asked Leliana.  
“Down that hallway and to the right. They call that the Traitors Wing. It’s the strongest and hardest to get in or out of. We’ll have to fight to get her. I was here for training when I was a Templar.”  
“Let’s go,” said Morrigan as she headed for the door.  
Zevran put out a hand and stopped Alistair for a moment. “You must be prepared, mi amigo. You will not like what you find when you find her.”  
Alistair steeled himself and looked at Zevran, “I know. I have to, Zev. I have to get her out.”  
“And so we will amigo.” He took off, the rest following his lead.  
The way led through a kennel where trained Mabari were guarding the way. Morrigan used several hexes to confuse them, enabling the others to finish them off quickly and quietly. “She’s in there,” said Alistair.  
Two guards attacked as soon as they entered the cellblock, but they were no match for Alistair and Zevran. Morrigan and Leliana searched the bodies and opened the cells to let the prisoners out. “Go friends, while you still can!” Leliana called.  
Zevran checked two cells at the back of the block, finding a golden haired man in one and the naked body of a brown haired woman in the other. He entered the cell and knelt down, turning the woman’s body over. The woman cried out and scooted away from him, holding up her hands to defend herself. “NO! Please don’t! Not again!” she screamed. Alistair ran into the cell and reached down to pick Brianna up but she kicked out at him and hit him, “NO! I won’t go! I can’t tell you anything! Stay away or I’ll kill you!”  
“Bree, love. It’s Alistair. Please love, come with me. I’ll keep you safe,” he crooned to her like she was a skittish horse.  
“NO! Leave me alone! I won’t go! Please, no more!” She began to sob uncontrollably.  
“They brought her back a few hours ago. I think they…had their way with her,” said the blond man. “I’ve tried to get through to her but she just won’t listen. I’m sorry, ser.”  
“Who’s they?” asked an angry Alistair.  
“Loghain, Cauthrien, and two of his guards. He has a mage that does the work for him. Piece of work that one is,” answered the blond man.  
Zevran took the keys and let the man out of his cell. “Run, amigo. The way is clear for a bit,” he said.  
“Thanks, ser.” He looked down at Brianna, “Maker keep you, Brianna.” He ran down the corridor.  
Leliana pushed through and dropped to her knees beside Brianna. “Bree? Come, sweet. It’s Leli. I’ve come to take you home. Come with me.”  
“Leli?”  
“And Morrigan,” said the witch calmly and quietly. “Come with us. No one will harm you. Please, my friend. Let us be rid of this place.”  
“Morrigan? And Leliana? Where’s Alistair?”  
Alistair opened his mouth to reply but Zevran shook his head quickly. “He is waiting for you at the estate, love,” answered Leliana.  
“He will be so angry with me,” Brianna said sadly.  
Leliana wrapped her in the blanket she found and helped her up. “No, sweet. He isn’t mad. He’s so proud of you and how brave you are. He can’t wait to tell you and hold you again.” Alistair’s heart broke to hear her words.  
“I want to go home, Leli. I’m so tired and cold.”  
“Come, my friend. Let us go then, said Morrigan. She motioned for Alistair to pick her up. “Say nothing to her!” she hissed. He nodded and picked her up and held her. Morrigan chanted softly and cast a sleep spell on Brianna to calm her. “She will sleep. We must get her away from here.” He carried her out, into the night and the safety of the estate.

Arl Eamon’s Estate

It had been three days since they had brought her back from the fort.  
Brianna had been difficult to handle. Wynne had calmed her with magic several times and Morrigan had applied several potions to good use, but the damage was done and only time would heal her. Leliana and Morrigan had taken her to her room, ordered a bath and Leliana had ended up getting in the tub with her to keep her calm, soothing her with her touch and conversation. They talked of silly, unimportant things to keep her responsive but Brianna kept asking about Alistair.  
“Leli? Where is Alistair? I want to see him. I told him I would be here tonight for him,” she said.  
“He is here, sweet. Eamon is talking to him again. They have much to talk about now, you understand. He will come to you when he is finished. Let’s make you pretty for him, like your wedding.”  
Brianna looked over at Leliana, “My wedding. It was so beautiful. Alistair was so handsome.”  
“Yes, he was; the handsomest groom ever.”  
“Then I should be pretty for him. Make me pretty, Leli.”  
Alistair had been allowed in the room with them. She seemed not to see him when he was there, unless he spoke to her. He had tried several times but she had screamed and fought him, thinking she was still at the fort and he was one of her attackers. Now he stood by the door, his heart breaking to hear her speak of him but not to be able to touch her or help her. Finally he couldn’t listen anymore and opened the door, took a last look at his wife and left the room.  
He walked in a fury, not able to think or feel from all the rage that flowed through his body and mind. Eamon had taken him out to the yard to spar earlier with Sten and some of the guards but he had been in such a fury that he had broken the noses of two of them and the arm of another. When he realized what he had done, he threw down his shield and sword and went back in to sit with Brianna, praying that she would recognize him.  
Now he stormed through the halls again, finding himself in Eamon’s study in front of the sideboard, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Don’t do it, son,” he heard a voice say from behind him.  
“I need this. Go away Oghren” he had said angrily.  
Oghren walked out of the shadows and into the dim light of the fire. “So who do you help if you take that drink? Brianna? Yourself? Think about it, Alistair.”  
He did think about it. He thought about the way Brianna looked when they had found her, the pale, drawn face and matted hair, the bruises on her cheeks and breasts, the bite marks on her nipples, the burns between her legs. He had thought about it more than he’d ever thought about anything in his life.  
Alistair stared down at the glass in his hand and suddenly it all became clear; he was failing her. He was failing as a husband, a lover, and a friend. He promised to watch her back and he wasn’t. Loghain’s torture hadn’t been meant for Brianna but for him. Loghain was trying to break Alistair and send him over the edge, using the one thing that meant most to him, his wife.  
“NO!” he screamed as he threw the glass into the fireplace. He turned to the sideboard and swept all the spirits to the floor in a crash of glass. “I won’t do it! I won’t!” Alistair took three steps forward and fell to his knees on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.  
Oghren rushed forward and put his arms around him, “Shhh, lad. It’s all right. It will be all right.”  
Eamon rushed into the room with four guards, swords drawn, and found them on the floor, the dwarf cradling the future king in his arms as he cried out his heart. “Is he okay?”  
“He’s fine, ser. He’s just fine, you’ll see. Strong as a bronto this one,” was the answer.

@@@@@

One week later, Brianna had recovered enough that she had resumed some of her duties. Leliana had not left her side since she had returned to the estate and Brianna had finally informed her friend that she needed to go and rest now. “I will be fine, Leli. I think it’s time I should be alone, don’t you?” Leliana had relented on the condition that a servant be allowed to sit outside the door for when she needed something. Brianna had allowed it.  
Alistair had dove head first into working towards becoming king, visiting several banns and lords and entertaining several members of the Landsmeet at dinner. He had become quite popular with many of the noble houses, his charming smile and winning ways went a long way in a time where the current ruler was a cold unfeeling man with an equally cold daughter. Anora was still at Eamon’s estate, under guard and allowed no visitors. Her whereabouts kept a secret from all for her safety as well as theirs.  
Brianna was at her window one day, watching the sun set over the hills of the city when Alistair came in. He hadn’t been sleeping in their room and Brianna did not know where he had been staying. Leliana said she thought he had gone to stay with Oghren and that they had been much in each other’s company while she recuperated. Brianna had worried about that, the last time he had spent so much time with Oghren, he had been recovering from his last binge of drinking. This time though, he looked well, rosy cheeked, but tired looking, and she had no idea what to say to him anymore.  
“How are you?” he asked warily.  
“Better,” she answered shyly. “How was your meeting with Arl Bryland?”  
“Great, I like him. He sends his best.” He took a step forward.  
“He was always so kind.”  
“Morrigan says you went to the chantry today.” Another step.  
“I did. I wanted to…to light a candle. Today would have been Oren’s birthday.”  
“I’m sorry, Bree.” And another step.  
“It’s not your fault, Alistair. None of it is.”  
“It doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.” And another step.  
“What happened has happened. We will have to live with it now.”  
“Can we?” He slowly reached out to touch her hand and she flinched and cowered a little, causing him to step back quickly.  
Brianna turned around to face the window again, tears starting to fall, knowing only he knew the answer to her next question. Without looking she asked, “Was it like this for you? When….?”  
“Yes,” he answered softly. “It was.”  
“How did you make it go away?”  
“I had to learn to release the anger inside me. Then I could put it away where it belonged. Until you do that, it will haunt and hurt you.”  
She turned back to him. “I don’t know how.”  
Alistair took that last step again and held out his hand for her to take. “We’ll figure it out together, I promise.” She took his hand and nodded.

@@@@@

Brianna was soon able to resume her regular training and Alistair turned her over to Zevran and Sten in the hopes that the two could get her back on track physically as well as mentally. Sten was given the responsibility for seeing to Brianna’s physical training. He was a harsh taskmaster but fair, expecting no less than her abilities would allow but wanting all she had. Brianna admitted to enjoying the running and exercises he had her doing every day. It allowed her to clear her mind and concentrate on something other than what had happened to her.  
Zevran handled her weapons training since he was aware of Brianna’s mental limitations since she returned from the fort. “I trust you to make sure she doesn’t go too far with this, Zev,” he said. “I want her whole again.” The assassin had smiled and said he knew exactly what to do. She worked with him for hours each day on the basics of swordplay to hone her skills and build her speed and eye again but the fire she had before was gone. “She just goes through the motions, mi amigo. I know not what to do,” Zevran had admitted, shaking his head. “She has no fight in her.”  
Indeed, Alistair had seen it too. It had seemed that Brianna had given up something of herself to Loghain during her time in Fort Drakon. It was something that she desperately needed if she was to survive what was to come. Late one night, as he paced in front of the fire in their room while she slept, his mind reeling, a raven landed on the sill of the open veranda door. It flew into the room and landed on the foot of the bed, its golden eyes looking up at him, silently willing him to follow. With one last look at his sleeping wife, Alistair donned a shirt and his boots and followed the bird as it flew out the door.  
The raven flew into the garden outside where it landed on the cobbled stone path that meandered through the beds of flowers and vines. Alistair stopped, waiting for the inevitable transformation. “You really think that after all this time together, I don’t know you in any of your shapes Morrigan?” he asked disgusted.  
The raven’s feathers began to undulate and move as if blown by an unseen magical wind. Slowly it grew larger, its shape changing to resemble that of the dark haired witch instead of the bird. “You do not know all of them yet. Even I do not know that,” she replied.  
“What do you want?” he asked crossly.  
Morrigan turned to the vines that grew along the short wall next to her, reaching down to pluck a single pink rose from the vine. She lifted the flower to her nose and inhaled the fragrance, closing her eyes as she did. “You wish her returned to the way she was.”  
“Yes.”  
“You are going about it wrong.”  
Alistair crossed his arms, “What do you know about it?”  
Even he could not miss the look of pain that flashed through the golden eyes, a haunted look of anguish that caused him to step back a step. “As much as you, and more,” she said quietly.  
He was taken aback, knowing she spoke the truth. She did know of his pain and Brianna’s, for she had felt the same herself at some time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he apologized.  
“Flemeth’s methods of raising children are harsh and cruel. She sought to teach me the nature of men when I was young and she succeeded. But it is nothing now. Done and over. But Brianna’s pain is not. You must draw her out. Make her face that which she is hiding within herself. Bait her, tease her, cajole her, do anything you can to make her release it. Only then will she return to you.”  
“How do I do that?”  
“The lists,” was the reply as she turned to go.  
“Morrigan,” he called. “Why?”  
The witch turned back, “She is…my friend. I have no other and find I have need of her as she was.” Before he could reply she transformed and flew off again, leaving him alone. Alistair looked down where she had been and saw the rose. He picked it up and held it, putting it to his nose to inhale the scent as Morrigan had done before returning to his room.  
He entered their bedroom quietly, removing his boots and setting them down by the door. As an afterthought he pushed the veranda door shut then tiptoed to the bed and checked his still sleeping wife, bending down and kissing her softly on the cheek, whispering, “I love you,” as he did, setting the rose on the table next to her. Looking over to the sword rack where he and Brianna’s swords lay ready, he watched as a single raven feather fell to rest on the floor before him.

@@@@@

The next morning saw Alistair up before the dawn as was his wont, dressed and gone before Brianna had even awakened. By the time she had awakened, he had returned, declaring, “I’m all yours today, love.” She had smiled and helped him don his armor, following him to the lists outside in the yard.  
Alistair watched as Sten put her through her paces, forcing her to stretch her limits like never before until she was near tears with exertion. Brianna never gave up, even when she should have, and Sten finally called a halt, knowing she had had enough. Alistair helped her to a seat on a bench and gave her water to drink. “Rest, love. You were wonderful.” She sat and watched while he sparred with Sten in front of her.  
Morrigan stood in the shadows, watching the group. When Alistair looked up at her, she nodded her head at him and he nodded back in agreement. He walked over to the practice sword rack and selected two daggers and two swords, taking them over to Brianna as she sat on the bench next to the wall. “Spar with me, love. Zevran’s been teaching me two handed and I want to practice.”  
She looked up at him with a puzzled look but took a sword and dagger from him nevertheless, standing up and walking out into the ring and taking up a stance. “En garde,” she said, raising her weapons.  
Alistair raised his weapons and nodded as they began to circle each other. He took the first blow in a practiced move, sticking with basic moves and exercises, keeping her moving and engaged as she blocked his thrusts. Brianna’s eyes were dull and seemed unfocused as she parried, so he spun around and tapped her on her behind with the flat of his sword. “Mine,” he said. “You aren’t paying attention, love. Again.” Brianna looked frustrated but still raised her weapons.  
They began to circle each other again, looking for an opening. Brianna took aim at Alistair’s unguarded side, but missed his dagger’s thrust that effectively blocked her. When she brought her arm down for a second try, he brought his dagger down again on her sword arm, deflecting the sword and nearly causing her to drop it. “That was careless of you. Do it again. You aren’t trying,” he chided.  
“I am trying!” she countered.  
“Then prove it,” he demanded, raising his weapons. “En garde!”  
Brianna raised her weapons and barely gave him time to react as she moved in quickly, striking him wherever she found an opening. Her timing was off and her footwork was sloppy but she kept at him as he blocked blow after blow, never giving ground. After a misstep on her part, she again felt the flat of his blade as it made contact with her backside. The sting was enough to bring a groan from her. “Sloppy! You aren’t even trying! I could beat you with one hand and you know it. Again! En garde!” he yelled at her.  
The woman who stood against him in the next round wasn’t the same he’d fought so far in the match. Brianna grunted and groaned as she fought against him, using every move and every trick she had to get at him. Alistair found himself using most of his strength to remain in a defensive stance but he refused to back down as she came at him over and over. When she made a critical error in her footwork, he lashed out with his foot in a dirty move that was one of her own, sending her to the ground with a thud and knocking the wind out of her.  
When Brianna opened her eyes, she saw the sword poised at her throat, ready for the kill. “Foolish, wife. You know better than that. Get up and do it again,” he ordered, withdrawing the sword.  
“No,” she said. “I’m done.”  
Alistair looked down her, “No, you’re not. You will get up right now and continue to spar until you best me even if we have to stay here all day and all night. Now get up!”  
“No!”  
He dropped his weapons and reached down, grabbing her by her breastplate and hauling her up to her feet. “I said get up and fight me, woman! Now fight!”  
Zevran had joined Morrigan in her shadow and made a move to stop them but was stopped by Morrigan. “No. Leave them. He knows what must be done.”  
Zevran looked at the witch and then at the future king and queen of Ferelden and shook his head angrily. “Let us hope, for his sake, that he does.”  
Brianna glared at her husband and walked away. Alistair bent down and picked up his weapons as he watched her leave, “Is that what you do now? Run away? Just like you ran from Highever?”  
“I was forced to leave and you know it, “she replied coldly, still walking away.  
“You ran away.”  
The scream of frustration and hurt that he heard then was nearly drowned out by the sounds of her weapons as she turned on him, thrusting and parrying, “I had no choice! I was forced to leave them! It was my responsibility to see to the people! I had to save myself!”  
“You were a coward and you ran!” he yelled at her as he blocked her blows. Her scream at his words was one of anguish and pain as he used the opening to disarm her cleanly, sending her weapons flying. His own weapons went flying as he threw them away after hers.  
With her hands empty, Brianna yelled and screamed at him, hitting him with her fists and kicking him. Alistair stood and let her vent, grunting when she connected with a sensitive part of him. When she had expended all her energy, she collapsed in a heap on the ground before him, sobbing uncontrollably. “I did what they wanted!” she cried, “They made me go! I wanted to stay! Maker, I wanted to stay!” Her voice had begun to keen over and over as she vented her despair and anger.  
Alistair looked over at Morrigan who nodded and together with Zevran, shepherded the other soldiers and guards out of the area, giving them some much needed privacy. He gathered Brianna up in his arms and held her as she cried, stroking her hair and whispering to her, “Shhh, love. I know they did. Let it out.”  
They stayed like that for a while, as she sobbed out her heart, crying for all she had lost and not mourned. When she had calmed, Alistair picked her up and carried her to their room, undressed her and laid her in their bed, then undressed and got in to hold her. “Shhh, I’m here. Sleep now, love.” Brianna relaxed and slept in his arms as she hadn’t for so long and Alistair knew she would be right again.

@@@@@

Alistair woke a few hours later and heard a gentle rapping at the bed chamber door. Brianna was still asleep, curled up on her side against him. He slowly eased out of the bed and grabbed his seldom used robe and threw it on as he tiptoed to the door. He opened it to find Morrigan standing in the hallway holding a large tray full of food.  
“I…I thought she might be hungry. I asked the cook to make this, her favorites, I believe,” she said haltingly. He lifted a cover and smelled the contents to find a steaming bowl of chicken soup with rice and vegetables. “The silly woman couldn’t make a decent soup so I made that for her myself,” she added quickly as she handed him the tray.  
A large plate caught his eye, “Cheese?”  
“You might be hungry too.” She turned and walked down the hall.  
“Morrigan?” He trotted after her, trying not to spill the food, “Thank you. I…I couldn’t have done that without your help. I wanted you to know that.”  
Morrigan was so taken aback by his words that her mouth popped open and her eyes bulged a little. “Uhhh…well, I…we need her back.” Looking at his obvious state of undress she shook her head, “Your robe is nearly falling off, fool.”  
Alistair glance down to see the tie of his robe had nearly untied, causing the robe to begin to gap. He turned red and started to hand her the tray so he could tighten it. Morrigan smiled a sly smile and grabbed both ends of the tie and pulled it, tightening the knot for him. “Thank you,” he said, embarrassed.  
“You are welcome,” she answered as she walked back down the hallway, laughing at his embarrassment.  
He shook his head, muttering, “Bitch,” then smiled and reentered his bedchamber, setting the tray on a side table before throwing the latch on the door. Removing his robe, he found Brianna asleep but stirring, so he climbed back into bed and pulled her into his arms until she stilled.  
Alistair sighed and closed his eyes, intent on joining her in sleep when he heard Brianna say softly, “Your stomach is growling.”  
He smiled and looked down, “So is yours.”  
“So feed me.”  
“Your desire is my command, my lady,” he replied eagerly, releasing her with a kiss and jumping out of their bed to fetch the tray of food. He set it down at the foot of the bed and climbed back in with her, a piece of cheese in his hand. “Open up, love.” She obeyed and he put the cheese between his lips and bent down to her. She smiled and took the cheese from him, biting it off before kissing him.  
“This might take us all night. Can you wait that long to eat? I’m kind of hungry, love,” she said apologetically.  
“Me too. We’ll save this fun for dessert, shall we? Let’s see what we have.” He uncovered the plates, amazed at what he found. “There Morrigan’s chicken soup, made especially for you by the lady’s hand herself, cheese for me, apple tarts and sugar biscuits, baked potatoes with cheese and bacon, and fried ham with cherry sauce. All your favorites, I’m told. Dig in, my love.”  
“It looks so wonderful! Did you arrange this?”  
“Can’t take that credit. It was all Morrigan’s idea.”  
“Morrigan?”  
His face grew soft and he took her hand in his, “She…she helped me with you. It was her idea to take you to the lists this morning. She was convinced that you needed to release the anger you held inside. She was right, and it worked, at least I hoped it did.”  
“It worked,” she said. “I’m still angry but at the right people now and for the right reasons, I think.” She looked down at their joined hands, “What about you? You’ve been spending a lot of time with Oghren, I hear.”  
“Only quality time, my love. He was there when I needed him more than once and I’ll never forget it. I’m sober still,” he replied.  
Brianna nodded then continued, hesitating, “How’s your anger? Can you handle more? I need…I need to tell you what happened to me. You should know.”  
“There is nothing you can’t tell me, love. I will listen. I won’t promise not to react though.”  
Brianna told him about Loghain, Cauthrien, the mage and his assistants and what they had done. She left nothing out, including the fact that they had made her orgasm over and over as she cried out that she could tell them nothing. When she had collapsed and they were convinced she had broken enough, they returned her to her cell. “The last thing I heard Loghain say was that he wanted me to stay in the cell and to wait. ‘He will come for her so let him find her as she is.’ Then he laughed and that was all I remember until days later when I woke up here.” Alistair was silent through all her story, his fists clenched tightly, but his demeanor was calm. “He did this to get to you.”  
Alistair closed his eyes at her last words then opened them, “I know,” he said calmly. “It didn’t work the way he wanted it to.”  
“So what of us?”  
“You are my wife, Brianna and you will be my queen. Loghain will die, at my hands or yours, by sword or the noose. He knows that now for sure.” He reached to her hands and held them. “I swear on my life, no one will hurt you like that ever again.”  
“I know. Do you…do you still want me? Even…even after?” Her voice shook with fear that he didn’t.  
“Maker yes!” he cried out as he pulled her into his arms. “I will always want you,” he whispered.  
“Then you have me,” she said.

@@@@@

The next few weeks were eventful. Brianna and Alistair were swept up in the preparations for the Landsmeet which included a visit to the Alienage, where they found that Loghain had become so desperate for money that he had begun to round up and sell the free elven people who lived there to Tevinter slavers. “I think we have enough now. This, with the evidence we have gathered from our other sources, should be enough to secure enough votes in the Landsmeet to make you king.” Eamon was practically preening with anticipation and excitement.  
“Then when do you call the session?” asked Brianna.  
“In three days’ time, the banns will gather at the palace in chambers to discuss the succession. I have drawn up the necessary documents that declare Alistair’s desire to inherit his brother’s throne, his certificate of birth and naming which were signed by both of his parents, and witnessed by Teagan and me; and his certificate of marriage to you from the Redcliffe chantry. I have also managed with no little difficulty to locate your own certificate of birth and naming, as well as a copy of your father’s will, naming your brother as his heir and you as his second. That should seal things up even tighter. I do need one other thing from Alistair though.”  
“What is that, my lord?” Alistair asked.  
“I need you to resign from the Grey Wardens, effective immediately.”  
“What? I can’t do that.”  
Eamon shook his head, “Nonsense, write it down on a piece of paper and sign it. Brianna stamps it with the Warden seal and it’s done.”  
“It’s not that simple, my lord. You don’t resign from the Wardens. Once you are in, you can never get out. It’s…its part of the ritual.”  
“He means that it’s a physical thing, my lord. We truly can never leave the order,” Brianna added. “It’s permanent.”  
Eamon began to pace. “So if you become king, they can still call on you to fight any time they want or need you?”  
“Yes, they can. We are the only ones who can fight darkspawn for a reason, my lord. We cannot shirk that duty whether we are pauper or king. But perhaps if he writes down that he intends to take a leave of absence from the order to see to the duty of running his country, that might suffice. We don’t have to tell Weisshaupt that the leave means the rest of his life.”  
Alistair smiled down at his wife and kissed her cheek, “Brilliant, love. I’ll do it.”  
“Then it’s settled. Take care of that immediately and I’ll see that the papers are filed with the Landsmeet clerk. In the meantime, ready yourselves for the gathering. Alistair, I suggest you come up with a speech to rally the banns to support the war. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Eamon bowed and left the room.  
“A speech? I hate speeches. We had to do it in the abbey school for deportment class. I hated it then too. I was horrible.” Alistair ran his hands through his hair in his nervousness, mussing his queue.  
“Stop that!” Brianna said as she pulled his hands away from his hair and began to straighten the braid. “I just fixed that from the last time you mussed it up. If you don’t stop, I’ll cut it.”  
“You wouldn’t dare.”  
Brianna pulled out her dagger and held it up, “Try me.”  
“You’re bluffing.”  
“Maybe. Want to take the chance?”  
“No. You win. No more mussing the hair.”  
“You really should cut it, you know. It’s not exactly a kingly way to wear your hair,” she said.  
“So how do I wear it? Shoulder length with large curls like yours? I like that.” He pulled her close, taking the dagger from her and sliding it in its sheath on her belt.  
“No. I was thinking maybe a shorter cut with the hair combed back from your face. You’d look good like that.” She reached up and ran her fingers through the stray hairs at his forehead causing him to shiver a bit with her touch.  
“You know I love it when you do that.”  
“I know.”  
He looked around the room then took her hand and dragged her over to a corner between an armoire and a large bookcase. “I love it nearly as much as I love this.” His mouth came down to hers in a possessive kiss as he began to pull loose the buckles of her breastplate and slide his hands inside. He began to pull up her shirt and work his hands up to her breasts, listening to her moan into his mouth as he did.  
“Alistair…we aren’t…someone will see us,” she said, panting as she pulled the laces of his breeches and reached in. He moaned loudly as her fingers came into contact with him.  
“Oh love, I certainly hope so.” He pulled the laces on her breeches and slid his hand into her smallclothes. Finding her folds, he ran his finger up and down the slit, lingering over her bud each time, savoring the wetness he could feel building within her. “Maker, I hope so!” he repeated as his mouth came down on hers.  
Both of them began to massage each other in earnest, kissing and biting as they did. Brianna was first to climax, moaning into Alistair’s neck as she shook with pleasure. When she had finished, she smiled and knelt down in front of him. “Keep watch, love,” she told him as she took him in her mouth and began to suck, moving up and down his length as he moaned with pleasure, his hands threaded through her hair.  
When he came, it was explosive and she took it all, smiling up at him as he closed his eyes and collected himself. He pulled her up and kissed her hard, his tongue lapping at her lips and tongue, tasting himself on her lips. A subtle clearing of the throat took their attention away and they saw Eamon standing in the doorway patiently waiting for them to finish. “If the two of you are quite through, I do need my study for some work I need to do,” the Arl said disgustedly as he walked into the room and sat down at his desk.  
Brianna and Alistair quickly straightened their clothes and Alistair helped her with the undone buckles of her breastplate. Alistair took her hand and led her out, stopping long enough to murmur, “I’m sorry, my lord,” as they turned to leave.  
“Alistair?” called Eamon from his desk.  
“Yes, my lord?”  
“Go to your room, the both of you. I’ve given orders that you not be disturbed for the rest of the day.”  
“Oh. Thank you, my lord.” He bowed and backed out of the room and shut the door then looked down at Brianna. “I was kind of hoping for someone else to see us. UGH!”  
Brianna laughed. “Race you to bed,” she challenged, running down the hall.  
“Oh, I love a challenge!” he declared and ran after her laughing.

Denerim Palace, Landsmeet Chamber

“Some of us are curious, Loghain, about precisely what happened at Ostagar.” Arl Bryland’s tone was businesslike and precise but underlined with a coldness that told everyone in the room that he knew the truth but would have it from the man himself. His questions were followed by questions from Brianna and Eamon regarding the Alienage unrest and the slavery of the elves, Jowan’s removal from the custody of the Templars and Loghain’s hiring of Jowan and the Crows to kill Eamon and the Wardens. Bann Alfstanna told of her brother’s imprisonment in Howe’s dungeons and Bann Sighard related the account of his son’s capture and torture by Howe for merely speaking his concern regarding the treatment of the elves and others under Loghain’s rule.  
Alistair stood still, watching everyone and missing nothing, Sten and Morrigan at each side with Rufus standing in front of him. Brianna had suggested Sten as a representative of the support Alistair had with foreign peoples. Rufus was there to show that Alistair was Ferelden through and through. “So why Morrigan?” Alistair had asked her curiously.  
“Cause she’s the scariest thing we’ve got next to Sten,” she answered smiling. Alistair had laughed at that. “Also, she’s been with us since the beginning and we owe it to her.” The other companions were just outside the chamber and ready to enter on a moment’s notice if necessary to protect them and the Arl from any harm.  
Even Anora was called on to answer for her involvement in her father’s plans, including her knowledge of his actions toward her husband. She surprised them all by standing against Loghain, all but calling him crazy. “I would have been killed if not for the actions of the Grey Warden Brianna and her companions. Because of her efforts to rescue me from the clutches of Arl Howe, she was imprisoned and tortured by my father in hopes that she would relate any plans we had to usurp my father’s power.”  
Alistair looked over at his wife, who had gone quite pale at the queen’s words. She had not been aware that anyone other than Eamon and her companions knew of her imprisonment in Ft Drakon, nor of the torture she had endured. Alistair whispered to her, “I’m here, love.” She nodded, gathered her emotions and put them under control.  
A roll call of the banns was next with an overwhelming number supporting Alistair’s bid. The future king smiled and walked to stand by his wife. Both Wardens removed their gauntlets and joined hands and there were a few gasps from those nobles closest to them as they not only saw the wedding rings on the couple’s hands but recognized the rings themselves.  
“I call for you to step down, Loghain. Surrender your troops and your arms,” commanded Alistair as the newly designated crown prince.  
“No! Which of you stood against Orlesian invaders and fought to save what was rightfully yours?” he questioned angrily.  
Brianna released Alistair’s hand and stepped forward, “Then we shall settle this honorably. I have a debt to settle.”  
“I suppose you do. Let us end it then,” he said. “Prepare yourself.”  
Brianna turned and returned to Alistair. “Are you crazy? He’ll kill you! I will not let you do this. It’s my throne so I will fight him.” He drew his sword and readied his shield.  
“No, my love. Not this time. I owe him this and he knows it. The duel is to first yield. I will make him be first, then he will be yours. Please, love!” she pleaded. “If he kills me, then I rely I you to finish him. He cannot be allowed to leave here in power! You know that!  
Alistair looked over at the Teyrn of Gwaren, one of saviors of Ferelden and once a personal hero and nodded. “He’s lost sight in his left eye, use that against him. Eamon says his left knee is bad too. He wears a brace. One good kick should take it out. He also can swing that sword like a man half his age, so duck.” He pulled her close and kissed her, “I love you,” he whispered.  
“I love you,” she whispered back. Turning she nodded to Eamon and to the Grand Cleric, who was to oversee the fight. Walking to the center of the room, she took her place in front of Loghain as she stood waiting for her.  
The fight was short, Alistair had been correct in his assessment of Loghain’s fighting condition. He was slow but still extremely powerful, causing her to duck over and over as he swung his heavy sword in an arc over her head. On one such swing, Brianna kicked out with her leg and rolled, causing Loghain’s left knee to buckle and he hit the ground, landing on his right knee, losing his sword. Brianna was instantly behind him, her dagger at his throat. “Do you yield, my lord?”  
“I yield,” he replied, holding up his hands. The Grand Cleric called the fight to a halt, declaring Brianna the winner as Alistair’s champion. Brianna picked up Loghain’s sword and sheathed her own, offering her hand to the teyrn. He took it and stood slowly, turning to face Alistair and his judgment. “I submit myself to your judgment, your highness. Maker have mercy on my soul.”  
“Teyrn Loghain, I sentence you to death for the murder of King Cailan Theirin, the Grey Warden Duncan and his men, abandoning the troops at Ostagar causing unneeded death and casualties, slavery, kidnapping, torture and attempted murder,” announced Alistair. “The sentence will be carried out immediately.”  
“Perhaps there is another way,” interrupted Riordan. “Let us use the teyrn’s great knowledge and skill to our advantage. Make him a Warden.”  
“You’ve got to be crazy!” exclaimed Brianna.  
“No! He tortured you! Killed our brothers! I won’t allow it. As king, I hereby command that Loghain is exempt from the Rite of Conscription.” He turned to Riordan. “I’m sorry, brother. There is no other way here. He must pay for his crimes. They are too large and too serious.” Riordan bowed his head and withdrew.  
“Alistair, this is your call,” she said, holding a sword that had been given to her by Eamon. When he looked down at it he quickly looked back at her in surprise. “Your father’s,” she said. “Yours now, love.” He nodded and looked to Loghain.  
The teyrn knelt before him in the position of a condemned man. Anora began crying as Teagan put his arms around her to sooth and restrain her. “May the Maker bless your rule, young Alistair. Do not let the past weigh too heavily on your future. I am ready,” Loghain said. Looking up at his daughter he said. “Be strong, my girl. Know that I love you still.”  
“Y…yes Father,” Anora replied before burying her head in Teagan’s shoulder.  
Brianna felt the tears in her own eyes as she remembered the day her own father died at the hands of a man who took his orders from Loghain. The sword dropped away from her emotions, and she was finally able to let them rest. Looking at Alistair, she nodded sadly and he raised the sword. “Maker forgive me for what I must do, my lord. I will see the Ferelden you love whole and strong again and your efforts to save her with my father will never be forgotten. This I swear.” With one large stroke, he brought the sword down, severing Loghain’s head from his body. He was truly the king now.

The Great Abbey, Denerim

Alistair and Brianna walked through the halls of the abbey tower, the sound of their boots and armor echoing off the walls. It was a cold and uninviting place, not what Brianna had thought she would find on her first visit to her husband’s old home. Alistair had sighed as he pointed out landmarks to her that she would know from stories he had told her. “I’m sorry you had to see this, love. I…didn’t want you to.”  
“Why not?” she had asked.  
“It’s the past and a bad past at that. I was never happy here at any time and swore I’d never return.” He stopped and looked down at her, “The banns insist that we marry again in their presence. Tell me we don’t have to do it here, please!”  
Brianna smiled and took his hand, all the while wanting to wrap her arms around him but knowing it was inappropriate in their present location. “No, Alistair. I was thinking the Landsmeet chamber would be fine. The Grand Cleric says she needs only to bless the marriage we already have. I’d be happy with a piece of paper that says we did it.”  
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, lingering on the taste of her skin. ”You are way too good for me, you know.”  
“You’ll make it up. You always do.”  
“Another challenge?”  
“Of course.”  
“Hmmmm….accepted my lady.” He sighed again and turned back down the hall, “Let’s get this over with.”  
A large door was set in at the end of the hallway, heavily armored, with locks and runes lining it. Two guards stood side by side next it, snapping to attention as they saw the future king and queen approach. Alistair motioned for the men to unlock the door then inserted his signet ring into the rune lock in the center of the door. The locks burst free with a loud click and one of the guards pulled open the door to the chamber within, allowing them entrance.  
Inside was a well-appointed and luxurious room with a settee, desk and dining table. Brianna could see there were two other rooms off the main one, a bedroom and what appeared to be a bathing chamber. A spiral staircase led up to another level above, where she assumed a servant was allowed to stay.  
The occupant stood in the center of the room, dressed in a simple but elegant dress of dark brown wool with a red sash. Her blond hair was braided and coiled simply around her head. She curtsied as she deferred to her better, “Your majesty.”  
“Your highness. Thank you for seeing us. I trust they are treating you well?” asked Alistair as he inclined his head towards Anora.  
“Your highness,” said Brianna as she curtsied to the former queen, who still outranked her until Alistair’s coronation.  
“I am well and they have been most accommodating, thank you. What can I do for your majesty?” asked Anora, as she gestured to the seating area of her small quarters.  
Alistair took a seat on the settee with Brianna next to him as Anora took a small chair. “I have come to ask for your support.”  
“You know I cannot give it and you know why.”  
“Please Anora, just listen. I need to know that you support my efforts to fight the war against the darkspawn. I’m not asking that you support me personally, or anything else. Just the war. Will you at least do that?”  
Anora rose in a breach of protocol and paced to the window, “You killed my father, the one man who could have ended this.”  
“I did it because he started it.”  
Anora sighed and lowered her head. Brianna could hear her mumble a short prayer under her breath. When she had finished, she turned. “And what of me?”  
“Until I can secure my crown from your ‘supporters,’ you will remain here, cared for and protected by me. You may correspond with anyone you wish but know that the letters will be read. You should know that until such time as I can make other arrangements, you are my heir. I will keep you acquainted with all my decisions. Copies of edicts and commands will be sent to you regularly so you can be kept abreast of what is happening outside.”  
“I’m to be your heir? After all this?” Anora was so stunned; she dropped into a chair nearby.  
“He must have someone, your highness. Eamon can run things as regent but with things in the mess they are in, there has to be a sovereign. You are the best possible choice. Your love for your country and your abilities prove that you will do what’s needed to make things better,” added Brianna.  
Anora thought for a few moments then looked up at Alistair, “Very well. I will support your decisions in matters pertaining to the war and Ferelden’s fight against the darkspawn. I will not, however, support you individually, your wife or your rule outside of that. That will have to wait.”  
“Thank you, your highness. You are very kind,” Alistair replied as he rose to leave.  
“Alistair?” Anora called as he and Brianna walked to the door. “What will become of me once this is over and you are truly king?”  
Alistair turned to her, “What do you want to be? You know I cannot let you just go out and pick up where you left off.”  
“Of course not. I would…like to return to my home in Gwaren to see to my people. They have been much affected by this war and I would see to their care if I can.”  
Brianna looked up at Alistair, a warning look in her eyes. He nodded and turned back to the former queen. “I will see what I can do. Maker keep you, your highness.”  
“And you, your majesty,” Anora added sadly.  
After the doors had closed and were locked behind them, Brianna looked to her husband, confusion spreading across her face, “You aren’t seriously thinking of letting her go back there? She’ll raise an army and we’ll be back to square one. What could you possibly be thinking?”  
Alistair smiled a sly smile and reached down and pulled his wife into his arms, grabbing her behind in a highly inappropriate move given the surroundings. “Actually, I was thinking of a conversation I had one night at the Pearl about her and whipped cream. Oh, she’ll get what she wants, but nowhere near how she wants it. Wait and see, my love.” He bent down and kissed her soundly, laughing as he did.

Redcliffe Castle

Alistair stormed out of Riordan’s bedchamber, his head reeling from the words he’d heard from the older Warden. His duty as king, as Warden, as husband forgotten in a haze of fear and anger that threatened to overtake him. “Alistair!” she had called, running to stop him, only to be brushed aside.  
“No!” he’d nearly yelled, continuing down the hall.  
“Please!” she’d begged him. He’d ignored her.  
He’d found himself in the garden, gulping the fresh air and letting the rain soak through his clothes and skin, images of Brianna and their time together flashing through his mind. He saw the kiss at Lothering, teasing her in Redcliffe village, the look on her face as she read his journal, the three days in his room at Orzammar, her proposal, their wedding and that time in Eamon’s study. They were all for naught now. He would lose her, one way or the other. Perhaps that was why he’d suddenly found the witch.  
“So you are out here hiding too, I see?” he said annoyed, more as a statement than a question.  
Morrigan stepped out of the shadows where she had been standing out of the rain. “Yes.” She approached him as a cat might approach its prey, “So you know.”  
Alistair’s head snapped up at her words, “I know what?” he asked carefully.  
“Tis no secret betwixt you and I, Alistair. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies.”  
“And you are just now letting us know this?” he asked angrily.  
Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest, “Would you have believed me all those months ago in the Wilds? No, you wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have either in your position.”  
Alistair shook his head and turned to enter the house, “Alistair!” she called after him. He turned and looked at her warily. “If I could do something…something to help you on the morrow….something terrible. Should I do it?” She was hesitant and her words were full of emotion.  
“Why ask me? You hate me and I hate you,” he snapped back.  
“Perhaps. But she does not and I would see her happy and successful. So I ask you, should I?”  
“Do what you must. We’ll need all the help we can get now,” he replied flippantly as he returned to the house.  
Morrigan hands became fists as she gathered her wits for the task she had been given all those months ago by Flemeth. “I will not be weak, mother” she whispered. “And you will not make me.” With a last look at Alistair’s retreating form, she turned to make ready her plans.

@@@@@

“Why would you listen to Morrigan of all people?” he asked her. “I’d rather spend my last night alive in the arms of the woman I love.” He reached for her and began to unlace her tunic as he kissed her cheeks and neck, “Come to bed, love.”  
“Because she can keep us alive tomorrow!” The words were spoken fast and furious and true like the arrows she shot from her bow.  
Alistair stepped back and looked at his wife. “Keep us alive?”  
“A ritual, something of Flemeth’s no doubt, but she says it will enable us to survive the death of the Archdemon if one of us kills it.”  
“What kind of ritual?” he asked worriedly.  
Brianna turned and paced to the window that overlooked the lake below. “You have to sleep with her.”  
Alistair’s eyes grew large and he turned to his wife. There was truly nothing she could have said that would have surprised him more. “I have to…WHAT?”  
She turned back to him, “Sleep with her. She wants to conceive a child and that child will be the catalyst. The soul of the Archdemon will travel the taint to the child instead of the Warden and be born anew as a human, not darkspawn. The result is that we live.”  
“And if it doesn’t work?”  
“Then we are no worse off than we are right now.” Tears began to stream down her face. “I’m willing to die tomorrow but I can’t bear to see you die!” She began to cry, her tears bordering on the uncontrolled.  
He took her in his arms, “You know what you’re asking me? I….I can’t love. If I do, who says I’ll stop with her? I don’t want anyone but you!” His voice was anguished as he spoke.  
“I know! What do we do? Oh Maker, Alistair! What do we do?”  
Alistair held her for a while until they had calmed, “I love you more than anything. That will never change, no matter what happens to us,” he told her, scared that she didn’t. “I just...can’t. I can’t do it!” His voice was full of agony, as if he was the one who was killing her himself.  
“Please, Alistair! I just want you to live!” Brianna went to her knees in front of him, her control gone.  
Alistair looked down at his wife, the one thing he would never give up for anything in the world, and made his decision. He knelt down and took her face in his hands and kissed her as if it were the last time, knowing that it would be. “I love you, Brianna. Maker please remember that!” He rose and left the room, leaving her a sobbing heap on the floor.

@@@@@

She was where he knew she would be; where he had left her before, standing in the shadows, waiting.  
“What is your decision?” the witch asked.  
“Let’s do this,” he said.  
She nodded and he followed her through a door that he knew led to the basement below. She carefully sealed the door behind her, casting a ward to keep out any who would intrude on them. “The ward will not keep you in, if you are worried. I will not make you do anything that you do not wish to do. This I promise.”  
“Very well. If she will survive, then I will do as you ask.” As she turned to lead him down the steps into the basement, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched it behind her back, calling on his power as he did. “Know this, witch. If she dies because this does not work, there is nowhere you will be able to hide from me. I will seek you out and kill you. Of that you can be assured.”  
Morrigan moaned in pain as he released her. Looking up into Alistair’s eyes, she saw not the chantry-bred Templar nor the womanizing drunk but the desperate man in love, the Warden warrior king who would sacrifice all for the sake of his people and country; the greatest sacrifice of all, his happiness and his love. “There will be no tricks. All will be well in the end. You shall see.” Still rubbing her arm, she led the way down the stairs, stopping long enough to light the torches along the way.  
They came out in a storeroom that Alistair recognized as one that was used by the steward to store the extra silver and dishware that was used when there were important guests at the castle. A small room off to the side was open, light streaming out of the doorway. “This way,” Morrigan said, walking towards the door.  
Inside the room was a sturdy cot, made up with sheets and furs. A large fur rug and soft cushions were scattered upon the floor, and the scent of lavender and other soothing herbs wafted through the air. Candles were lit on tables and surfaces, giving the room a soft warming glow that was at the same time inviting and disturbing.  
Alistair stood in front of the doorway, waiting for an invitation when Morrigan turned to him, a small bottle in her hand. She handed it to him, “Drink,” she said, then turned to shut the door behind him, locking it and casting a ward against it.  
“What is it?” he asked as he smelled the concoction in his hand.  
“It is an herbal mixture. Coupled with the spell, it will greatly increase the chances of conception. Do not worry though; the results are also…pleasant for you as well. You will find stamina you did not know you had and the act will be much more pleasurable for us both.” The last she said with a hint of sarcasm that made Alistair take notice.  
“Us both?”  
“Do you think that I wish to do this? I want the child but I would have done anything to avoid having to do it this way. The child must be fathered by a Grey Warden and if I could have found anyone else other than you, I would have, Alistair. I feel the pain you feel as surely as you do. I am hurting her too.”  
Alistair knew she spoke the truth. “I know you care for her Morrigan. I have always known. She cares for you also.” He turned and looked at the bed against the wall. “She doesn’t know I’m here. I told her I wouldn’t do it and left her crying. Now I’m here and the only thing I know is that I have to do this. I have to do it for her. She must live!”  
Morrigan took her hand and turned him back around to face her, “Then we shall do it. Drink and let it be done.” He nodded and downed the potion in one gulp. She handed him a piece of fruit from the table nearby. “To fight the taste,” she said as she gave it to him. He took it and bit into it, chewing it slowly before swallowing. “Remove your clothes. There is a basket for them there.”  
He sat down on the bed and removed his boots and socks, sticking the socks in the boots and shoving them under the bed. He untied his jerkin and shirt and removed them, folding them over and placing them in the basket. Standing, he untied his breeches and slid them and his smallclothes down over his hips, stepping out of them. He folded them and placed them in the basket, then stood, naked, waiting for her.  
Morrigan had begun to chant softly and lit a small fire in a brazier on the small side table. She began to add herbs to the fire, one by one, as she chanted louder. Finally she added a chunk of a substance that began to smolder slightly, filling the room with a light, sweet smelling smoke that curled around everything it touched and encouraged you to breathe it in.  
Alistair took a deep breath and felt the euphoria wash over him. “Orichalcum?” he asked her dreamily.  
“Indeed. You are familiar; I take it, with the effects?” she asked.  
“Yes, the girl and I went all night and only stopped because we were too exhausted to continue.”  
Morrigan smiled, “We will not need that much time, unless you desire it.”  
“No, keep the dose small please. It gives me a terrible headache.”  
“As you wish.” She dropped the final ingredient on the brazier and her chant changed. Her hands began to caress him, running across his chest as her chanting grew louder in his ears, becoming a pulse that pulled him towards her. Alistair’s cock was hard now and he could feel the pressure building in his balls as he felt his release coming. He opened his eyes and saw the golden eyes dancing in the smoke that surrounded him. He reached for her, grabbing her by the shoulders, pulling her to him, his mouth coming down on hers as he growled.  
Morrigan moaned as she took his mouth eagerly, her nails raking him down his chest, drawing blood as he howled. His hand came up and pulled the neck of her loose tunic, ripping it off her body. She screamed in a combination of anger and satisfaction as his mouth latched onto her breast while his hands yanked at her skirt, ripping it loose.  
Forcing her to her knees, he shoved his cock into her mouth, laughing and groaning as she began to suck and lick it but not drawing on it as he wanted. He let out a howl, drug her up by her hair and pushed her down on the bed, ripping the rest of her skirt off then putting his hands on her hips and thrusting into her. Morrigan cried out in a combination of pain and ecstasy as he pounded into her over and over, raking her nails across his back repeatedly. Alistair roared at the sensation as he came inside her, both of them reaching their climax together.  
Still hard, he rolled her over on her stomach and entered her from behind, watching himself go in and out of her as she screeched with orgasm after orgasm until he came again, spending himself only to begin to thrust against her again.  
“Turn over!” Morrigan cried out, pushing upwards and using her leverage to push him down onto the bed. She mounted him and smoothly guided him inside of her, riding him to completion before they switched to another position even more exciting, losing track of how many times they spent themselves. Finally with one last moan, Morrigan collapsed on top of him and they fell to the floor, both too exhausted to continue.

@@@@@

A few hours later, Alistair woke to a weight on his chest, his head pounding harder than it ever had before. He opened his eyes to find himself in a dimly lit room, a dark haired girl lying on his chest. He carefully lifted the sleeping girl and set her to his side, listening to her slight moan as she settled herself back down into sleep.  
He tried to remember where he was in the haze that was his mind and his thoughts strayed to the Pearl and Maggie, the Antivan he’d taken a fancy to for a while. He smiled, as he recalled her dark hair and willing ways. She’d introduced him to the orichalcum and they’d gone for hours and hours under its influence. He’d never had such wild and uninhibited sex with anyone other than her.  
But Maggie was gone. She had been sold three years before to a merchant from Antiva City who had taken her home and married her. He was a Warden now, not the boy who had money to spend and didn’t care who he spent it with or on. There was another girl now; the brown haired one with blue eyes, the dream of a lifetime.  
“Brianna,” he said, looking down at the girl in the bed beside him. The girl wasn’t Brianna, he knew. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of everything he saw and felt when the girl rolled over and spoke.  
“Alistair?” she said. “You should go now. We are finished.”  
Morrigan. The images of the night came back in a rush and he began to breath fast and hard as anxiety and near terror gripped him. His cock became hard again as he remembered the sounds, the tastes, the smells and the feelings of the past few hours. His hands came up to his face, “Maker, what have I done?” he whispered desperately.  
“What you knew you had to do. She will live; you have my assurance on that. Go now, she is waiting.” He stood and she handed him the basket with his clothes and his boots. “Stand still,” she said as she cast a healing spell upon him, healing the many scratches and bites that covered his body. She followed that with a rejuvenation spell to make him more coherent. When she was done, he dressed quickly and turned to leave. “Alistair?” she called. When he turned she said, “Thank you,” and smiled. He nodded again and left her.  
Alistair wandered the castle for a while, trying to get his bearings when he found himself in the Arl’s study, standing in front of the side board table. He took the glass and the whiskey decanter and had poured two fingers when he heard the voice, “Don’t, Alistair.”  
He turned at the voice to find Teagan sitting in a wing chair in front of the fire, staring at the flames. “She isn’t worth that and you know it.”  
“How would you know what she’s worth?” he asked, disgusted.  
“I was thinking about that first time I took you to the Pearl. Remember? You were so happy then, innocent and young. I thought you needed a distraction to get you through a bad time. Instead I introduced you to a demon.”  
“No, you didn’t. You had nothing to do with that. That was….something else entirely.”  
Teagan rose and walked over to the man he called nephew. There was a heavy smell of sex on him and he knew there was something deeply wrong; something he could not help him with, “Still, I would that I hadn’t taken you that night.” He took the glass from Alistair’s hand and poured the liquid back into the decanter. “Go to her.”  
Alistair shook his head, “I can’t uncle. I’ve hurt her too much this time.”  
“No, you haven’t.” Brianna stood in the doorway, her eyes red from crying, holding out her hand to him. Alistair felt the tears well up inside as he looked at his wife, waiting for him. He slowly walked forward and took the hand, letting her lead him upstairs to their room.  
Brianna had a bath waiting and she slowly undressed him and helped him in. She took the washcloth and soap and began to scrub and wash him from head to toe, massaging him softly to relax his muscles and calm him. He said nothing to her and just let her work. He was simply too worn out mentally to even talk now. When she had finished, she toweled off his hair while he soaked, then ran a comb through his locks, slowly taking out the tangles and snarls that always formed when he washed it.  
He stood and she wrapped a large towel around him as he stepped out of the tub, letting her lead him to the rug in front of the fire where she rubbed him down with the towel until he was dry. Brianna draped the towel on the rack near the fireplace and led him to the bed where she undressed and stood before him.  
Alistair broke down then, the tears and pain that had been building inside of him boiling to the surface and spilling out as he cried uncontrollably. Brianna bade him lay down in their bed and she held him, the tears staining her own face as she let him cry, all the while telling him, “Thank you, love. Thank you, thank you…”

@@@@@

The early morning twilight had only just begun to lighten the room when Alistair awoke, his eyes slowly opening. His first thought was of where he was but his wife’s soft sigh as she moved closer to him in her sleep told him he must be in his own bed and not the basement room of the witch.  
Somehow and for some reason, Brianna had taken him back, knowing where he had been and what he had done. There was no reason for it, and even though she had asked him to do it, he had refused and still had sought the witch out. The results had been nothing like he had expected. He’d had the wildest, most exciting sex ever and he craved more of it. He knew it had been the orichalcum but as before, each time he partook he wanted more.  
Brianna stirred again, feeling him moving and slowly opened her eyes, sitting up to look down on him as he lay next to her. Her hair was falling down around her shoulders and she had the flush of a woman in love, her lips blushed pink in anticipation of being kissed. Her blue eyes shone in the half light of the morning, the most beautiful woman he had ever known or would ever know.  
Alistair’s hand came up to caress her cheek, testing to see if it was really her and not some orichalcum-saturated dream the witch had concocted to spur him on. When Brianna sighed and closed her eyes at his touch, he sat up and took her face in his hands. “Maker! Please tell me it’s you! Tell me I’m here and not…there. Please!” he begged.  
“You’re here, love. With me, where you belong. Where you will always belong!” she said as the tears threatened to fall again.  
His lips met hers in a kiss that was passionate, possessive and punishing at the same time. He wanted to mark her as his own, to tell her she was his only love and to hurt her for sending him to the witch. Brianna opened to him, giving him everything he wanted and more, letting him use her as he wished.  
When he found some control he whispered to her, “Brianna, I…I must…please…she can’t be the last for me…please!”  
“I am yours, Alistair,” she replied, her arms seeking him, stroking his hardness with her hands as he moaned. He lay back against the cushions and she took him in her mouth, kissing and sucking him as he directed her, giving him what he wanted most.  
“Mercy…yes, love….oh yes!” he moaned. When she knew he had reached a certain point, she released him and straddled his hips, taking him deep inside her as he thrust upwards, trying to push as much of himself into her as he could.  
Brianna began to pant and keen as she approached a climax, tightening around him as she grew closer, crying out when she peaked. He began to thrust harder into her, rearing up until finally he took her by the waist and rolled her over onto her back and began to thrust into her harder. “Please…love…tell me…tell me I’m yours…still! Maker! Please!” He was desperate as he took her, so close to finishing, yet so far from being satisfied.  
“You are mine Alistair! Mine, you hear....MINE!” she screamed as she came again, keening and wailing, sending him over the top with her as he spilled into her over and over, finally crumpling to the bed at her side, his head cradled on her breast, panting.  
“All mine, love,” she crooned to him as if he were a child, running her fingers through his hair. “You are all mine now. No one can take you from me.”  
They stayed like that as the sun rose and they heard the knock at the door telling them it was nearly time to go. Alistair looked up at his wife as she cradled him like a child in her arms. “I love you,” he whispered, running his fingers down her cheek.  
Brianna shivered at his touch and smiled, “I love you and I always will, you know.”  
He turned around until he was kneeling on the bed before her. “You aren’t angry then? I did say I wouldn’t do it.”  
She said up and faced him, taking his hand in hers. “I was worried you hated me for asking you. You were so dead set against having another woman, even for an heir.”  
“I still am, love.”  
“I know. And yet you did it.”  
“To save you.”  
“And I wanted to save you.” Brianna looked down at their joined hands. “I won’t know what to say to her now.”  
Alistair closed his eyes, images of pale skin and biting teeth, raking nails and animal cries coming to his mind. He knew he would never forget her and he didn’t think he should. She gave him the gift of his and Brianna’s lives and he would learn to live with the rest. He looked at his wife. “I…I will tell you what happened, love…eventually. But for now, I think I’d just start by telling her thank you.”

The Road to Denerim

Brianna sat by the fire in the encampment, exhausted from the day’s long ride. Alistair had gone with Eamon and Teagan to meet some of the banns who had managed to join them at the last minute and to pour over the maps and strategies one last time. They had made such good time that day that they had stopped for a few hours to allow the men to rest and the stragglers and late comers to join them in hopes that they could approach the city with the largest force possible.  
She was preparing to go to her tent for a short nap when she heard the soft footfalls behind her and the subtle clearing of a throat. Brianna turned around and saw Morrigan standing behind her, her arms hugging her waist as she waited for an invitation to join her. “May I?” the witch asked carefully, without malice or sarcasm.  
“Yes,” Brianna replied, gesturing to a place near her but not too close. Morrigan made for the spot quickly. “You are cold?”  
“I am. I have been shifted into a wolf but my mana was low and I wish to conserve my lyrium for the morrow,” she answered as she held her hands up to the flames to warm them.  
“Stay here then, the guards will keep this fire well stoked since it’s near the king’s tent. I’ll tell them I said you are to stay here for now.”  
Morrigan looked at her, eyes wide with surprise and a glint of fear crossed their golden depths. “But what of…?”  
“He will not care now. It is my decision.” Brianna rose and removed her heavy woolen cloak and draped it over Morrigan’s shoulders. “It would not be wise if you caught a chill. My mother lost a babe that way once. I would not wish you to also. Keep it, I have another and you are never dressed warm enough.”  
The witch fingered the fine wool as she pulled the cloak around her tightly, tucking it in. She could not help but notice that it carried the traces of Brianna’s own warmth with it. Morrigan looked up at her, “Why?”  
“You carry his hope for the future, Morrigan. For his sake and mine, you must live and so must the child. I am in your debt.”  
“It is a child he will never see.”  
“Perhaps. But it is his and it may be the only one he will ever have. I would have him take something good out of all this,” Brianna replied.  
Morrigan looked into the fire, “You should know that this is by no means ended for any of us. The death of the Archdemon will only be a beginning, not an ending.” She looked up at the woman she called sister but who she knew hated her now, “Flemeth will return and then it starts for real.”  
“We will be ready,” was Brianna’s reply.  
Morrigan looked back at the fire, finding solace in its dance of light and shadow. Brianna turned to go to her tent but stopped and turned back a moment. “I’ll send some warmer clothing out for you to wear. It will be colder tomorrow. Stay away from the lyrium if you can, I hear it is bad for the child.” She turned and ducked under the tent, closing the flap behind her.  
Morrigan kept staring at the fire as Brianna left, keeping her head turned away to hide her tears.  
When Alistair returned to his tent he found Morrigan lying by the fire, draped in Brianna’s cloak, sound asleep. He looked down at her and tried to imagine what had happened the night before in the basement room. He was surprised when he discovered that it most of it was hazy now, as if it had only been a strange erotic dream. He closed his eyes and felt the familiar twitch at the back of his head and turned to see Brianna walking towards him, carrying a blanket and some clothing. He took the blanket from her and carefully covered the sleeping witch, tucking it in around her as she slept. Brianna laid the bundle of clothing nearby where Morrigan could find it and together the king and queen of Ferelden retired to their tent for what little of the night there was left.  
In the morning, when they rose and came out to greet the day, they found the blanket lying neatly folded on a log near the fire, a single raven feather resting upon it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story contains possible trigger scenes for sexual abuse. Read with care.

Denerim

The city was nearly taken by the time the army reached the gates. A large force of darkspawn had taken up position to guard the entrance to the city, trying to keep the army out. The dwarven and elven forces had entered through two alternate gates, splitting the darkspawn into three separate forces and weakening them. The army moved in and attacked at daybreak, managing to take the main gates and set up a defensive perimeter from which to operate and send out troops into the city proper. Above it all, the Archdemon flew, directing the forces and attacking any who got too close.  
Riordan entered the city alone with a last ditch plan to attract the Archdemon to a high point in the city in an attempt to slay or incapacitate it. As a Grey Warden, the Archdemon would be attracted to him and he stood the best chance of them all. Alistair and Brianna decided to take Zevran and Leliana into the city with them as they fought well as a unit and as rogues were the best equipped for the type of battles they would be facing.  
“After all this, I’m not to go with you?” demanded an angry Morrigan.  
Alistair took her by the arm and led her away from the others, Brianna following. They stopped near the wall where they would not be heard. “It is my decision. You will stay here.”  
“Please Morrigan. Do as he says. We do not want you to come to unnecessary harm,” reasoned Brianna.  
Morrigan thought for a moment, “I do not know how close I need to be for this to work. It may be necessary for me to get closer to the dragon when it is slain.”  
“Then when it is time, shift into a raven, nothing else, I will look for that as a signal. Come to us then. When I see you, then I will see it killed. Not until. If you don’t come within an hour, I will kill it anyway and take my chances,” Alistair was adamant. “Do not disobey me, Morrigan.”  
“I will not.”  
His face grew softer as he looked down at her and he turned and took Brianna’s hand in his, “I wanted…I wanted to say thank you. This is a great thing you do for us. I also wanted to say that if you ever need anything, you may call on us, and we will help you if we can. Just send us this and we will know it is you.” He handed her the golden ring of the House of Theirin. “This is my family’s seal; give it to him or her, please.”  
Morrigan looked at the ring and turned it over in her hand. She looked up at him and nodded. Brianna asked, “What will you name the child?”  
“I had not thought of it,” the witch replied. “Do you have a name in mind?”  
“Perhaps Bryce if it’s a boy, after my father.”  
“That is a good name. Your father was well thought of, even in the Wilds. What if it’s a girl?”  
“Helen,” replied Alistair. When Brianna looked at him in surprise, he continued, “My mother’s name was Helen.”  
“Tis a good name. I will consider it,” Morrigan replied. She looked down at the ring and smiled slightly then pulled a chain out from her tunic and slid it onto the chain for safekeeping. The horn sounded, calling the troops to gather and she looked back up at Alistair and Brianna. “May you live long and rule well, King Alistair.” She smiled at Brianna and shifted into a wolf, bounding off towards the troops as they began to line up for the next assault.  
They watched her go and when she was out of sight, Alistair turned to Brianna and looked down at her. “You aren’t…mad at me about that…are you?”  
“What I think of her and what you did means nothing now. The deed is done.” She turned away, looking out on the city before her, “I would see her live, for your sake and for your child’s. It may be the only one you will ever have.”  
Alistair closed his eyes as he imagined a baby with Brianna’s reddish brown hair and his blue-green eyes. It would be beautiful, just like its mother. “I would that I could give you a house full, because I would.” He put out his hand and turned her towards him, pulling her into a tight embrace. “When all this over, I’m telling Eamon to tell the country to sod off for a month and then I’m taking you someplace where no one can find us. We’ll lose our clothes and scream each other’s names all day and night.”  
Brianna smiled and replied in a husky voice, “I think I know just the place. Father has four hunting lodges and they are so remote no one will think to look for us there until it’s too late. And….no one will hear a thing.”  
Alistair laughed, “I love you so much,” he whispered into her hair.  
“I love you,” she said, her head buried in his neck. The horn sounded again for the final assembly.  
“Shall we go be king and queen for a while? They’ll want to see us.”  
“I suppose it is time for that,” she replied.  
He bent down and kissed her hard, all the worry, passion and fear he had tied up in that one act. When he slowly pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers. “We can do this,” he told her.  
“Yes, we can,” was her reply.

Fort Drakon

Two days later, the troops had liberated much of the city and were massing outside of Fort Drakon. They were exhausted and their numbers much depleted but they had survived this far. Alistair stood at the entrance to the fort with Brianna at his side, their companions gathered around them. He perused the message he had received carefully, sighing heavily and closing his eyes for a moment before crumpling the scroll in his hands. “Riordan is dead.”  
Brianna put her hand on his arm and rested her head on his shoulder, “When?”  
“Early this morning, it says. He had picked up a small squad of the Legion to accompany him as he made his way to the palace tower. He managed to mount the dragon and wound it severely but it threw him off and he fell to his death. The message is from the Legion captain who was with him.” He looked up at the top of the fort, “It’s up there now, wounded and not able to fly.” He turned to Brianna, “Now’s our chance, love.”  
She snapped to attention and looked at the others, “Zevran and Leliana will come with us to the roof. We can use the route you used to rescue me.” She looked to Sten, who had been placed in charge of the defense of the gates earlier, “You stay here with the others, make sure no more darkspawn can get in here. Eamon and Teagan will take their troops through the front doors and make sure nothing comes out alive that isn’t human, elven, dwarven or Mabari.”  
Alistair smiled at his warrior queen and bent down to kiss her cheek, “Well done, love…uh…Warden Commander.” When she looked at him wide eyed, he continued, “Oh, by the way, I forgot. You’re the new Warden Commander of Ferelden. Congratulations, Commander.” He laughed at her surprised look.  
“Oh…thank you, your majesty. You do know we’re going to talk about this later?”  
Alistair smiled, “Of course, love, I’m counting on it.” He turned back to the others, “You heard the lady, let’s go.”  
They made their way through the fort, sneaking most of the way as they used Eamon and Teagan’s frontal assault as a diversion. Brianna shuddered as they reached the cell block, remembering her short stay there. As they passed a door, she stopped unexpectedly and stared at it, her eyes glazing over with a far off look.  
“Brianna? What is it, love?” Alistair asked.  
She drew her weapons and they followed suit. Leliana opened the door slowly and they rushed in to find a tall blond man standing over the bodies of two mages. He’d obviously been tortured and Brianna recognized him immediately, “Rob?”  
“I know you…the Warden girl…..I killed them….they tried to….but I killed them…” he slumped to the floor and Brianna rushed to his side.  
“You know him, love?” asked Alistair.  
Brianna lifted Rob’s head and held it in her lap, “His name is Rob. He was in the cell next to mine. He watched over me while I was here; snuck me food and gave me his blanket. He…took care of me.” Rob was incoherent and mumbling as she stroked his head. “Can we get him out of here?”  
Alistair removed his shield and sword and handed them to Zevran. “Leliana, run back and catch one of Eamon or Teagan’s soldiers. Tell them we have a seriously wounded man here. Get back here fast.” Leliana took off while Alistair bent down and hefted Rob over his shoulders and started for the stairs to the lower floors, following Leliana.  
They found Eamon and his troops mopping up the last of the darkspawn on the floor below. “Uncle, this man needs a healer immediately. See that he gets anything he wants or needs by my orders.”  
Eamon signaled his men to take the man from Alistair and they rushed him out of the building to the waiting healers. “Who is he?”  
Alistair buckled on his sword belt and took his shield. He smiled down at Brianna before answering his uncle, “He’s a friend of my wife’s.”  
“Good enough for me,” answered the Arl. “Let’s go find that dragon, shall we?”  
“I’m on it.” Alistair said.

@@@@@

The Archdemon was indeed at the top of the fort as the message had said. It was wounded, having fallen to the top of the fort from a much higher altitude, but was no less deadly. Several dozen of the dwarven and elven troops, assisted by the mages, were already attacking it, managing to keep it worried but not doing much damage.  
“Eamon! Are those ballistas functioning?” asked Alistair as they assessed the situation.  
“They should be. Loghain had them brought up here and mounted to fight us if we attacked. My men know how to work them,” Eamon answered. “Captain! Put a crew on each ballista and get them firing on the dragon!”  
Alistair looked to Brianna next, “What next love?”  
“We need to pull the bowmen and mages back to defend the ballistas. They will be our main attack weapon. The warriors can stay down and harry the beast to keep it busy while the others pound it from above.” She drew her bow and checked her bowstring, “Let’s do this.”  
Alistair leaned down and kissed her quickly. “Stay back with that. I don’t want you getting too close while you don’t have a shield or the proper armor on.” She nodded and they took off for the dragon.  
The ground attackers were split into two groups with Alistair commanding one and Zevran the other. Leliana and Brianna took a group of bowmen and moved in for some close range fire at the beast’s head in hoped of blinding it or keeping it so distracted that it couldn’t fight. The ploy worked until Brianna began to feel the annoying prickling at the back of her head that grew stronger and stronger. She ran towards Alistair just in time to see the doors open and a hundred darkspawn spill out onto the roof. “Alistair!” she yelled, pointing at the horde as it rushed in to protect the dragon.  
Alistair saw the group and turned his men to them, taking the brunt of the charge. Zevran’s men soon joined them and they began cutting through the creatures as fast as they could.  
Eamon commanded the ballistas to keep on the Archdemon as it began to fight back, its attackers temporarily detoured. Brianna and her bowmen continued their close up assault, but were soon forced to back up and join the other bowmen who stood with the mages. Brianna drew her swords and joined her husband on the line, slicing and fighting her way to his side.  
“What are you doing here?” Alistair demanded.  
“Saving your ass again, husband!” she answered.  
Alistair laughed as he brought his sword swinging down, “Well, all right then!”  
He continued to swing but was soon finding himself maneuvering too close to the Archdemon. The dragon had turned and was using its heavy barbed tail to swat at the large group of soldiers that fought close to it. When Alistair was to be its next target, Brianna screamed, “Alistair, look out!” She ran and dove at him, knocking him out of the way of the tail. He hit and ground and rolled away and the tail crashed down and smashed into Brianna, throwing her thirty feet back against a wall.  
“Brianna! No!” shouted Alistair as he ran to her side. She was unconscious but breathing, her arm and leg broken and a cut on her head. He carefully picked her up and carried her to the opposite side of the roof where Eamon had healers standing by. “Help her, please!” he begged, setting her down on the stone roof.  
A young mage healer began to check her, “She has a broken arm and shoulder as well as a leg. There are also broken ribs, sire. I’ll do what I can here but she will live.”  
Alistair took a deep draw of water from his belt flask. He looked to Eamon, “It’s weakening. Turn everything we have on it. Now!” He rushed back into the fray, slashing anything that got in his way.  
The battle continued for another two hours when the Archdemon finally ceased its song to the others. Alistair put out a hand and called a halt to the fighting as the beast collapsed to the roof floor in a crash that shook the building. “That’s it! Everyone stop! Cease fire!"  
He walked back to Eamon where he found Brianna sitting up against the wall, awake and alert. He knelt down and removed his gauntlets, then ran his fingers through her hair and down her cheek. “All right love?”  
“No, but I will be. The song….it’s gone,” she said.  
“I think it’s too weak to call them.”  
“She isn’t here, Alistair.”  
“I know. It has to die now, love. I…have to kill it whether she’s here or not.”  
Brianna took his hand and pleaded, “You said you’d give her an hour. Please!”  
Alistair turned and looked at the dragon as it lay on the roof. He could feel it growing stronger again. They might not have an hour. “We don’t have time, love. It’s growing stronger as we speak. I’m sorry.” He bent down and kissed her tenderly, whispering, “I love you.”  
He rose and handed Eamon his shield and sword, then picked up a massive two handed broadsword that had fallen near him. Walking toward the dragon, he began to recite the Chant of Light as he tested the sword’s edge and strength. Satisfied, he made a running start and ran the sword’s point along the dragon’s neck, opening a long wound that began to bleed profusely.  
Alistair climbed on top of the Archdemon and raised his sword, taking a last look at Brianna. She had risen and was trying to run to him, screaming, only to be stopped and held back by Eamon and Zevran. He closed his eyes, gathered his strength and looked up to see the raven as it flew across the sky, landing on the roof in front of him. It shifted and Morrigan was standing there, waiting for him to take the blow. She nodded to him and he smiled as he struck down hard into the Archdemon’s neck before he was flung away and the blackness took him.  
Chaos ensued on the roof after Alistair had struck the blow. The dragon died and its soul fled the creature’s body, but whether that soul was destroyed or not was a point of conjecture. The resulting explosion had nearly blown the roof off the fort.  
When she came to, Brianna found herself back against the wall where she had been sitting. She crawled to her feet and stumbled around, searching for Alistair among the debris, seeking him out with her senses. The roof was littered with the bodies of darkspawn, humans and elves, many of them injured and calling for aid. Healers had begun to move amongst them in an attempt to help as many as they could, while soldiers dispatched any darkspawn that still survived.  
“Alistair!” she cried, as she staggered aimlessly about, tears streaming down her face. “Alistair!”  
Suddenly she felt the prickle as the back of her head and she pulled her dagger as she stumbled forward, following the feeling. “Alistair?” she asked. When she heard a moan she fell to her knees in front of a pile of rocks and debris and pulled them away to find him, still alive, trapped under a large piece of stone.  
“Maker…love…get this ….thing….off me,” he gasped weakly.  
“Alistair! Hold still, they’re coming!” She bent down and kissed him, her tears falling on his face.  
He smiled weakly up at her, raising his hand to brush the tears off his cheek. “Are those for me?”  
Brianna laughed, “Of course, silly. You are alive!” She bent down to kiss him again and whispered, “You did it, my love. You did it!”  
He laid his head back and closed his eyes, smiling as he drifted off, unconsciousness taking him.

The Royal Palace

Alistair was taken to the palace, where he was placed in the king’s chamber under guard while he was treated. No one saw him but Brianna, Eamon, Wynne and a few other healers and servants. He had suffered massive injuries, including a concussion, broken ribs and a broken leg as well as several internal injuries. Wynne placed him under a strong sleep spell to insure he rest and not move.  
Brianna was kept away for a few days in her own chambers nearby, connected by a joint sitting room. Wynne had had to place her under a sleep spell for a few days to keep her in bed and make her rest but once rested, she was allowed to stay with her husband as long as she took breaks for rest and air.  
Late one night, she found herself not able to sleep, so she rose from the cot where she had been sleeping in Alistair’s room, kissed him, and slipped on her robe and slippers to take a walk along the halls of the palace.  
She found herself in front of the palace chapel so she slipped in and sat down on a bench and looked up at the statue of Andraste as she looked down upon the room. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you could do for me, is there?” she asked. Andraste looked down, as cold as always.  
“I really needed another miracle right now. You’ve done well so far, I was hoping you had one more in you.” The statue just looked down.  
Brianna sighed, “No, I don’t suppose you do.” She closed her eyes as she began to cry, “It’s just that I’ve lost Mother, Father, Oriana, Oren and Fergus. I can’t stand to lose Alistair too! Maker, please!” She began to sob uncontrollably and slumped to the floor. “Please help him…”  
Strong hands picked her up and she found herself enveloped in a hug. “Shhh pup, you know I never did like to hear you cry like that.”  
Brianna froze and looked up at the man who held her. His hair was longer, he was thinner, and there was a scar on his forehead that wasn’t there before, but he was still Fergus, her brother.  
“Fergus?” she asked tentatively.  
“It’s me, pup. Back from the dead, I’m told. You’ve been busy while I was gone.”  
“Fergus!” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight as she cried tears of joy. “I can’t believe you are here!” He held her tight as tears welled up in his own eyes at the relief of finding her.  
“I’m here and alive, pup.” He held her out to look at, “And look at you! A Grey Warden and the Queen of Ferelden. Plus I hear you’ve been making some promises I’ll have to keep.”  
Brianna laughed as she wiped the tears from her eyes, “Nothing you wouldn’t have made yourself, brother.”  
“You did wonderfully, pup, and I couldn’t be prouder. Mother and Father would be too.”  
“Fergus….I’m sorry…about Oriana…and Oren. I…tried to save them.” She hung her head as she spoke, the guilt becoming too much for her to bear. She pulled a chain out of her robe and took Oriana’s ring and gave it to him.  
“You did everything you could. Someone had to get out and tell the world what happened.” Fergus took the ring then took her chin and raised it up so she would look him in the eye. “You took the vengeance I could not take and for that I am eternally in your debt.” He scooped her up in his arms and hugged her tight, “I missed you so much, pup!”  
“And I missed you!” She stepped back and took his hand, “Come and meet my husband. You’ll like him very much, I think.”  
“So I hear. If he snagged you, then he has my respect. You’re a tough one.” She smacked him on the shoulder and he put his arm around her as they walked.  
Alistair was still sleeping when they entered the chamber. Brianna was touched when Fergus went to one knee before the bed, bowing before his king, before approaching. “This is Alistair,” she said. “I hope he’ll be awake soon, but….”  
Fergus took her hand and squeezed it. “It takes time, pup. I was in a Chasind hut for months before I had the strength to get out of bed. He’s a warrior, he’ll get up soon.”  
“You know, I really hate it when people talk about me as if I’m not really here,” sounded a hoarse but strong voice from the bed.  
“Alistair!” Brianna nearly shouted and she sat down on the bed and took his hand in hers, bending down to kiss him. “You’re awake!”  
He laughed lightly, “So I am. I was having the most wonderful dream. There was this beautiful girl with blue green eyes who granted my every wish and desire. She was such a temptress, but I just had to say no. Couldn’t have you being jealous now, could I?”  
Brianna smiled and narrowed her eyes at him, “Every desire, huh? Scamp. We’ll talk about that one later.” She reached over and took Fergus’ hand, “This is my brother, Fergus.”  
“Your majesty,” Fergus said, with a bow.  
“Oh, stop that. I’m naked, in bed, and covered in poultices and salves. I think Alistair will do nicely in this situation and I’ll just call you Fergus.”  
Fergus smiled, “I’d like that very much.”  
Alistair looked over at his wife. “I don’t suppose you could persuade Wynne to let me out of this prison she’s created for me? I’m dying to stretch my legs.”  
“Your desire is my command, sire,” she replied, bending down to kiss him.

@@@@@

Six weeks later, Alistair donned a new set of armor and made the journey down the aisle of the Great Hall in the Palace to accept the crown of Ferelden from the Grand Cleric. He knelt for her blessing, and then rose to greet his people. He looked down at Brianna, in her place next to Fergus as Alistair’s wife and the sister of the Teyrn of Highever and winked mischievously, a knowing look in his eye. She winked back, causing Fergus to poke her for her misbehavior and look sternly at his brother in law.  
Alistair put out his hand and Fergus led her to the dais to meet him, bowing to his king as Brianna curtsied. Fergus placed her hand in Alistair’s and withdrew and Alistair led her to the top of the dais where the Grand Cleric waited to bless their marriage. They exchanged rings of plain gold to mark the occasion and knelt for the blessing.  
When they had finished, Alistair rose and turned to Eamon, who held a pillow on which a small crown sat. He took the crown and placed it on her head saying, “Before all present, I name thee, Brianna Cousland Theirin, my queen and consort. Maker watch over you and keep you.” Brianna bowed her head to accept the crown then took his hand as he helped her up. In another breach of protocol, the young king swept her up in his arms and kissed her soundly in front of the audience, inciting cheers from the crowd below. Eamon rolled his eyes and smiled as Fergus laughed. Ferelden had a king.  
Alistair’s first order of business as king was to clear the nobility of all those who had supported Loghain or Howe during the uprising. Unlike his father, the young king was not willing to deal with those who had groveled their way into power with his father and with Loghain. “They have proven twice over they cannot be trusted. Ferelden cannot afford to trust them a third time. Remove them and place our own people there.” Eamon did as he was told, placing trustworthy citizens who had shown their loyalty to the crown in some positions and combining several smaller holdings in with larger ones by promoting the banns of the smaller holdings to those holdings that were forfeited to the crown. Alistair’s drastic measures were met with much opposition at first, but when the evidence of just how severe the plotting and scheming had become; most were willing to allow him the leeway to do as was needed to stabilize the country.  
Brianna dove into her new role as queen of Ferelden and commander of the Grey. She quickly instituted a plan to recruit more Grey Wardens into the order. Alistair gave the Wardens the arling of Amaranthine as a base from which to rebuild. As Commander of the Grey, Brianna was also named Arlessa until such time as Weisshaupt could send a permanent force to command and man the garrison there. Oghren surprised many by becoming one of her first recruits and continued to advise Alistair on all things personal. Zevran remained with the Wardens to train the recruits as assassins and stealth fighters, eventually retiring to Antiva where he instigated a coup among the Crows, becoming their master.  
The new queen made it her personal responsibility to rebuild the city of Denerim into the city it was before the war. With the help of her friend from the prison, Rob, whom she named her personal secretary; she spearheaded projects to demolish many of the derelict and destroyed buildings, replacing them with new ones. The greatest challenge was the Alienage, which she completely razed. The elven peoples under King Alistair were given their own lands in the southern wilds where they were free to live as they wished provided they swore fealty to the new king. The Dalish and city elves did so gladly and elected the new Dalish keeper, Lanaya, as their first Arl.  
Those elves that wished to continue to live in the cities were guaranteed fair treatment and fair hearing of their grievances. Wrongdoing was severely punished on both sides. Instead of an alienage, the elves were encouraged to live where they wished but were allowed to maintain centers and parks where they might still gather to share their heritage and lore with each other and anyone else who wished to learn. One of their first visitors to their new center in Denerim was the king himself.  
Leliana returned to the Chantry and took holy vows, then journeyed to Haven to lead the purge of the cultists and free the sacred ashes. When they arrived, they found the temple in ruins and the ashes gone with no trace of where they had gone. The area became a shrine for the faithful and Leliana eventually traveled back to Orlais where she joined the Order of the Seekers.  
Sten returned to Seheron with his honor intact and a year’s worth of stories to tell. He introduced cookies and sweets to the bakers of his homeland and received special notice from the Arishock for his contribution to Qunari cuisine.  
Rufus retired to the pampered life of a kennel hound, becoming the most sought after sire of puppies in the country. As a gift to his good friend, Alistair bestowed upon Oghren a matched pair of Mabari hounds, both imprinted to him. The dwarf was quite touched and never let the dogs out of his sight.  
Alistair’s toughest challenge was his decision to allow the Circle Tower to have autonomy. After having been a Templar and having seen what had happened in the Tower, he was convinced that much of what had happened could have been prevented if the mages were allowed to police themselves more. The Grand Cleric was more than a little angry at her former charge, threatening to excommunicate the young king if he did not back down.  
Alistair was adamant, “Excommunication? Really? Good, I’ll sleep late on Sundays from now on.”  
“You can’t be serious, your majesty! This could cause uprisings throughout Thedas!” argued the Grand Cleric.  
The king looked down at the elderly cleric, “If you do not go along with this, I will withdraw the crown’s support of the Chantry as the official religion of Ferelden. You want those tithes, don’t you?”  
The Grand Cleric took a step forward and lowered her voice, “That’s blackmail, Alistair Theirin and you know it.”  
Alistair cocked his head and smiled a wicked smile, “Maybe.” When the old lady shook her head and backed down, he continued, “Look, your grace, I was there and I know what they went through, plus I used to work for you, remember? Let them try. I’m not saying you aren’t needed, because you are. I’m just saying to try it, okay?”  
In the end, the Chantry was forced to give in and the mages got new freedoms to travel, sell their wares in markets all across the country and conduct research outside of the Tower. The results were astounding as the Circle became a productive and profitable member of the Bannorn when Alistair gave them their own arling with the title First Enchanter and a seat in the Landsmeet. When First Enchanter Irving retired, Wynne took up the mantle, serving as court mage and advisor to Alistair and Brianna the rest of her days.

@@@@@

Among the most surprising of King Alistair’s decisions was his choice of who was to become Teyrn of Gwaren, the lands formerly held by Loghain. Alistair was sitting in bed one night when he told his wife of his decision.  
“Teagan? That’s an excellent choice. But what of Eamon? Shouldn’t it have come to him? He has earned it,” she said as she finished undressing and began to brush out her hair.  
“He has and I offered it to him first. But he says to give it to Teagan. Eamon has his hands full with being chancellor, regent and arl. Teagan just has Rainesfere.” He watched her as she brushed her hair, “Come here. I want to do that.” Brianna sat down on the bed, handing Alistair the brush. He brought it down through her hair slowly, running his fingers through her hair as he did. “Beautiful,” he murmured.  
“Hmmmm…that feels good. I guess Teagan has earned it too,” she replied, closing her eyes as he continued to brush her hair.  
“That’s not all, though. The teyrnir comes with a bonus; a wife.”  
Brianna whirled around so fast; the brush hit her in the head, “Ow! What do you mean, it comes with a wife?”  
“A wife, as in a woman you marry. Do you remember when we went to see Anora after the Landsmeet to ask for her support?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, do you remember me saying something about a conversation I had one night at the Pearl about Anora and whipped cream?” His eyes took on a wicked look that they got when he had been up to something.  
“I remember something like that. I just thought you were being silly,” she answered.  
“I wasn’t. The conversation was with Teagan. He was a little drunk at the time, but I always remembered it. He has a fantasy about making love to Anora while she’s covered in whipped cream. He’s got a thing for Anora!”  
“You’re joking!”  
“Nope. And if his reaction to her at the Landsmeet was any indication, he still does. Plus, he’s been visiting her regularly.”  
“You aren’t seriously considering marrying Anora off to Teagan? She’ll still plot against you.”  
He took up the brush again, “As Teagan’s wife, she marries into the Guerrins and they won’t let anything happen. As my brother’s wife, she’s my responsibility to take care of. Teagan wants her and he’ll get her. The papers were drawn up this afternoon. She’ll sign them if she wants to go home.”  
Brianna turned around to look at her husband, “You, my love, are a genius sometimes.” She kissed him on the cheek.  
“It is good to be king sometimes. Which reminds me.” He put down the hairbrush and reached into the nightstand and pulled out his crown, putting it on and leaning back in the bed. “Come here, wench,” he commanded, his voice husky.  
“Oooo…your majesty! I’m so awed by your magnificence!” She laughed as she stood up and untied her robe, letting it slide to the floor.  
“As well you should be, girl. Come here and let me show you just how magnificent I am.” He reached for her and drew her down to him, his mouth meeting hers.  
“You do know that’s a corny line.”  
“Not if it works, love.” It did work. Twice.

@@@@@

One month later, Alistair walked Anora down the aisle for her marriage to Teagan. The couple left immediately for Gwaren for their honeymoon while the king and queen of Ferelden left for a grand tour of the country. They took a month out of the tour to disappear into the woods for Alistair’s promised month of solitude, appearing at the end of the month, disheveled and sated, and even happier than before.  
Anora and Teagan’s first year of marriage was a rocky one that was capped off by Teagan locking them in their room for a month while they got to know each other better. When they emerged, they were quite pleased with each other. It came of no surprise to anyone when Anora gave birth to their first son exactly nine months later. The Guerrins followed with another son and a daughter and according to all who knew them, we happy as they could be.  
When he arrived for a visit to the Guerrins home in Gwaren a few years after their marriage, Alistair was surprised when a young lay sister from the local chantry asked to speak to him during a visit. The young elven woman bowed before him and when she rose, he realized that the sister was his lost love Parlan. She had been sent to the Gwaren chantry to live and work and had stayed. Alistair hugged her and introduced her to Brianna who was more than pleased to meet the girl she’d heard so much about. Parlan became a teacher in the chantry school and advised the king on matters involving the education of the young people of Ferelden.

@@@@@

On the second anniversary of the end of the Blight, Brianna found a package sitting on her desk in her room. She found no note and none of the serving staff could explain how it got there. As she examined it, she found a clue that caused her to pause. “Rob, send for the king at once. Tell him it’s urgent.” Rob took off and returned shortly with Alistair.  
“Excuse us, please, Rob,” she said. “See we aren’t disturbed for any reason.” Rob bowed and left the room.  
“What is it, love?” Alistair asked, worried.  
“This package came, with this attached.” She handed him a single raven’s feather.  
“Morrigan.” He pulled out a knife and carefully cut into the package, taking out the box inside. When he opened it, he found two bottles of a familiar looking potion, a chunk of mineral, and a note, sealed with the seal of the House of Theirin. 

Friends,  
Find a quiet place together where you will not be disturbed for the night. Light the orichalcum and let it flood the room. Each of you drinks the potion as Alistair did before. I think you will know how to do the rest.  
M  
Postscript: The child is well. A girl named Helen.

Alistair sat down on the settee and stared at the note in his hands. “A girl.”  
“Yes,” she said, not knowing what else to say.  
He looked up at her, “I didn’t think it was real until just now. I’m a father.” Brianna nodded sadly. He rose and took her in his arms and held her. “I would that she were yours, love.” Looking down that the bottles sitting on the desk, he spoke, “That’s the potion she gave me…that night. Coupled with the orichalcum, it worked well.”  
“So it’s a fertility potion?”  
“Yes. There was a spell too, but I think that was just for my benefit. I really didn’t want to do it.” He looked down at her, “I would with you. It’s a chance, love. She’s giving us a chance.”  
“Let’s take it,” she said.

@@@@@

One year later, the country rejoiced as the king and queen of Ferelden welcomed not one but two heirs into their house, a daughter named Eleanor and a son named Duncan. The chantry bells rang over the land for days to proclaim the news.  
Alistair sat back on the bed next to Brianna as he held his sleeping son, his eyes full of wonder and amazement. “I can’t believe you gave me two,” he said as he turned to his wife.  
Brianna sat back, exhaustion still apparent on her face as she nursed her daughter. “It wasn’t my idea but I’ll take it. Two for one is always a good deal.”  
“Never let it be said that I don’t know a deal when I see it,” he laughed. He leaned over to kiss his daughter on her head then his wife before turning back to the sleeping boy in his arms. "A thing of beauty is a joy forever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing," he recited.*  
“I still love it when you do that,” Brianna told him, smiling.  
“Then I’ll never stop,” he said, bending down to kiss his son’s head. “Never.”

* Keats, John. Poetical Works. London: Macmillan, 1884; Bartleby.com, 1999.

NOTE:  
In this story I have portrayed Alistair as having a drinking problem resulting from years of partying and binge drinking brought on by symptoms of depression and abuse. If you or someone you know suffers from depression or addiction problems I urge you to seek help. You are not alone and there are many who care.  
Ahlewis32

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Summersday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/682871) by [ahlewis32](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahlewis32/pseuds/ahlewis32)




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